


Thankful

by ItsJustALittleRain (MortalCyn)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bittersweet Ending, College Student Castiel, College Student Dean, Dirty Talk, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family Getting On Your Nerves, Fluff, High School Student Sam, Holidays, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Secret Crush, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2018-12-14 18:09:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 62,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11788623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MortalCyn/pseuds/ItsJustALittleRain
Summary: Sam wasn't normally one to stare, but what the hell are you supposed to do when your older brother brings his attractive college roommate home for Thanksgiving? Seven days under the same roof was either going to be the best week of his life, or the worst. No monsters, just time with the family around the holidays, and a massive crush that will eventually work itself out one way or another.





	1. Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam makes a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm primarily a Destiel fan, but the idea for this fic came to me and it wouldn't leave me alone, no matter how much I tried to hide. So I present to you a college/high school au where Sam & Dean have happy, healthy lives. Fair warning, the rating is explicit for later chapters. Any and all feedback (whether kudos or reviews) is greatly appreciated!

The toaster had barely finished beeping before Sam grabbed the pieces of toaster strudel. They were far too hot, and he juggled them awkwardly for a moment, nearly dropping them both before he managed to get a paper towel underneath them. He had almost made it out of the kitchen before he remembered the icing packet and then hurried back in to look for it.

His mother Mary handed it to him, shaking her head, long blonde curls swaying. “I swear, I don’t know how you can stand those things. They are way too sweet.”

“Yeah, well they’re still better than the crap they serve us for breakfast in the cafeteria,” Sam replied, tearing the corner of the packet with his teeth. He quickly dumped the icing on the pastries and pressed them together like a sandwich.

Mary watched, a smile crinkling the corner of her eyes. “You could always get up earlier and eat a real breakfast with me and your dad sometime.”

Sam raised both eyebrows. “Yeah, but then I wouldn’t be able to sleep in.”

Mary shook her head again and picked up her ‘world’s best mom’ coffee mug. “Two words, kiddo. Time management.” She took a sip and then set her cup back down. “You’re going to have to learn it next year when you’re away at college. Oh, and speaking of which, make sure you come straight home today. I need your help getting everything ready.”

Sam rolled his eyes, hurriedly wrapping his sugary breakfast in the paper towel. “I’m pretty sure Dean isn’t expecting us to roll out the red carpet, Mom.” He started for the door.

“Of course Dean isn’t,” Mary agreed. “But he’s bringing his roommate with him.”

Sam stopped in his tracks, sure he’d misheard his mother. “What?”

“His roommate is coming with him,” Mary repeated. She tapped absently on the side of her mug. “I forgot his name.”

“Castiel,” Sam said immediately. He could feel the blush creeping up his neck and turned away.

“That’s it,” Mary agreed. “Such an odd name. But yes, Dean called us last night and said that Castiel’s family was out of the country, and he didn’t have anyone to spend Thanksgiving with. John and I talked it over.” She shrugged. “We’ve had a good year with the shop. So we told Dean to bring him. Your dad is picking them both up at the airport tonight.”

Sam swallowed hard, his face warm. “That was nice of you to do that.”

“We’re nice people,” Mary said, smiling. Her smile faded a bit when she noticed how pink Sam had turned. “My goodness, are you alright? You’re not coming down with something are you?”

They both glanced up at the sound of a car horn out front.

“That’s my cue,” Sam said, relieved to escape before his mom could start an inquisition. “I’ll come straight home, I promise.”

“Alright. Have a good day,” Mary called as he walked out the door. “And zip up your coat, or you really will get sick!”

Instead of zipping his coat, Sam opted to tug it tighter as he walked briskly down the driveway to where his best friend’s car was idling. He quickly opened the passenger door and climbed in. As soon as he was buckled in, he hunched forward, rubbing his hands over the vent. “Could you turn the heat up? Why do you always have to freeze me out?”

Charlie turned to smirk at him from the driver’s seat. She had her favorite rainbow striped beanie pulled down over her long red hair and looked far warmer than he felt. “Which one of us has a car again?” She tapped her finger against her cheek. “Oh, that would be me, wouldn’t it?” She backed the car out onto the street. “Why don’t you zip your coat?”

“Because it gets too hot when I zip it,” Sam explained for the millionth time. “It’s down.”

“Those poor geese,” Charlie sighed. “How would you like it if someone snatched out your hair to make a coat?”

Sam snorted. “Dean used to snatch out strands of my hair all the time when he said it was getting too long.” He absently ran a hand through his dark brown hair, which was admittedly pretty unruly.

“Isn’t he coming back this week?” Charlie asked, glancing anxiously at the yellow traffic light up ahead. “Is this the intersection with the camera?”

“Think so,” Sam replied.

“Better play it safe then,” Charlie said, stepping on the brake. She ignored the sharp honk from the car behind her as the light turned red. “Yeah yeah, you’re not gonna pay my ticket, so shut up.”

“But yes, to answer your question,” Sam continued. “Dad is picking him up from the airport tonight.” He took a breath. “He’s bringing Castiel with him.”

Charlie whipped her head around to stare at her friend. “What? His roommate Castiel?”

Sam nodded, trying to play it cool.

Charlie wasn’t about to let up that easily. “The one that you have been obsessing about ever since you saw him on Dean’s snapchat? He of the piercing blue eyes and the fuck me voice? That Castiel?”

Sam felt his face reddening again. 

“Raven-haired Castiel? Love of your life Castiel? Your one true—”

A loud honk interrupted Charlie’s speech.

“Light’s green,” Sam quipped.

“Yeah, yeah buddy,” Charlie mumbled, glaring in the rearview mirror as she accelerated. “So what are you going to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you going to, you know… make a move?” Charlie pushed.

Sam scoffed. “He’s in college.”

“And?” Charlie said. “You’re a senior. You’ll be in college next year. Besides, do you know how many girls in our school have college boyfriends?”

“That’s because their boyfriends are creeps,” Sam explained.

“You’re eighteen,” Charlie reminded him.

“So what?” Sam said. “I’ve never even met him before. I’m not going to come onto someone I’ve never met. Besides, I don’t even know if he’s into guys.”

“Only one way to find out,” Charlie quipped. 

“Even if I were to consider trying anything,” Sam said. “I’m pretty sure Dean would have something to say about me attempting to hook up with his roommate.”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “He probably won’t be around. Isn’t he still dating that hottie with the long dark hair?”

“As far as I know,” Sam answered. “I like Lisa.”

“I like Lisa too,” Charlie said wistfully.

Sam laughed. “Then go for it. Isn’t that what you were just telling me to do?”

“Uh uh,” Charlie said, turning into the school parking lot. “Number two rule of being a lesbian: eat others the way you yourself wish to be eaten,” she joked as she pulled into a student parking space.

Sam laughed again. “Fair enough. What’s number one?”

Charlie turned off the engine and gave Sam a knowing glance. “Never fall in love with a straight person.” She shook her head. “They’ll break your heart every time.”

 

It was always hard for Sam to concentrate on school in the days before a break, but knowing that in a few short hours he would be sharing a house with the object of his affection was making any attempts to focus impossible. The entirety of the school day passed in a blur as Sam agonized over the many thousands of ways that he could embarrass himself in front of his brother’s roommate. The number increased beyond counting once he factored in Dean’s natural penchant for giving him a hard time. By the time he was in Charlie’s car on his way back home he was practically a mess of nervous energy.

“Need to make a stop before I drop you at home?” Charlie asked innocently, noting the way Sam’s leg had been tapping non-stop since they left the school parking lot.

“Stop for what?” Sam asked, giving her the side-eye.

“Oh you know,” Charlie replied. “Condoms. Lube. Handcuffs. Whipped Cream.”

Sam sucked in a breath. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Charlie laughed. “All summer long, you have been stalking your brother’s snap stories and listing all the things that you would love to do to his roommate, and now you’ve got your chance.” She shook her head. “But I’m the ridiculous one because I just asked if you needed any provisions. Sure.”

“I don’t need any provisions,” Sam muttered. “I already have everything except the handcuffs anyway.”

Charlie gave an impressed nod. “Even the whipped cream? I guess you really did plan ahead.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “It’s for the pumpkin pie. Dean would have a heart attack if there wasn’t any pie.”

“An important component of any balanced meal,” Charlie agreed. “At least some of us think so anyway.”

Sam sighed, trying to stop his leg from tapping.

“All jokes aside,” Charlie said. “If you need me for anything, I’m there. From moral support to providing the perfect spotify seduction playlist, I’ve got you covered.”

Sam ran a hand through his hair. “Quit hyping it up. I can already tell you how everything’s going to play out.” He glanced out the window as they turned onto his street. “I’m only going to see him for maybe five minutes a day. The rest of the time, Dean will be dragging him all over town, showing him his old hangouts. We’ll eat Thanksgiving dinner together, and then they’ll both be on a plane back to Cali. The end.”

“You freakin’ wish,” Charlie replied. “I don’t think it’s going to be that simple.” She pulled into the driveway of Sam’s house. “But good luck.”

“Thanks,” Sam mumbled. “I’ll see you tomorrow and let you know how it goes.” He watched as Charlie’s car backed down the driveway and out onto the street. When she turned the corner, Sam dug his keys out of his pocket and let himself into the house.

“Oh good,” Mary said, when she saw him. “The linens for the guest bed just finished in the dryer. So, if you could go ahead and make the bed that would be great. After that, I’d like you to give the whole place a pass with the swiffer.” She snapped her fingers. “Oh, and also please vacuum the couch cushions.”

“Okay,” Sam said, taking off his coat and heading towards the hall closet. He hung his coat up and turned back to his mom. “What time are they supposed to get here?”

“About an hour and a half,” Mary answered. “Maybe two, depending on the traffic around the airport. This is a big travel holiday, so your dad might be on the road for quite a while. I just hope dinner is ready by the time they get back.”

 _Shit._ Sam definitely did not want Castiel’s first impression of him to be a male Cinderella. He needed to work fast if he was going to get the place up to his mother’s specifications and still have time to make himself look presentable without also looking like he was trying too hard. Without waiting for further instructions, he took off for the laundry room.

Sam made quick work of his chores, taking extra care to make sure the guest bedroom looked invitingly comfortable. His dad thought the crisp white sheets and white down comforter made it look like a hotel, but Sam had vouched for them under the argument that they brightened the room and made it look far more spacious. It had previously been his and Dean’s playroom when they were kids, and unlike the craft room across the hall that his mother used for her home office, it wasn’t terribly large. Sam had also picked out the dark wood queen bed and dresser set, so that the room would have a fairly mature appeal. Castiel would be the first person to stay in the guest bedroom, and Sam hoped that he would like it.

By the time he finished vacuuming the sofas and cleaning the floors, Sam estimated that he had maybe a half hour at best before his brother and his roommate arrived. He called for his mom to give everything a look over and then went straight upstairs to his bathroom so that he could get in a quick shower. Once clean, he towel dried his hair anxiously, feeling the minutes ticking away. _Should I put on something to smell nice? No, that would definitely seem like I was trying too hard. What if he’s allergic to certain scents?_ He looked into the mirror, his hazel eyes wide in horror. _What if he’s allergic to cotton? What if he’s allergic to down? The guest bed has both! I should’ve asked... Oh God, I’m going to fuck this whole thing up._

Dressing himself proved to be equally nerve-wracking. Sam was expecting the front door to open any minute now, and the anticipation made it even more difficult for him to settle on any one item of clothing. _Don’t look like you’re trying too hard,_ he told himself repeatedly as he rejected piece after piece. He finally decided on a pair of light gray sweats and a comfortable long sleeved white t-shirt that had grown slightly less loose since he’d put on muscle over the summer, but he still didn’t feel like tossing it. He brushed his hair standing in front of his dresser mirror, lamenting that it still wasn’t fully dry, but using the blow dryer at this point would just make it fluffy. He heard the familiar sound of his dad’s truck pulling into the driveway, and tossed his brush onto his dresser, his heart racing.

Sam gave himself one last cursory glance in the mirror, trying to guess how Dean’s roommate might perceive him upon meeting him for the first time. _An extremely tall and reasonably handsome young man? An obviously lovesick and thirsty individual? Probably a giant fucking nerd, depending on what Dean’s been telling him._ Sighing, Sam left his room and made his way downstairs. He landed right in the foyer just as the front door opened and Dean stepped over the threshold.

“Jesus,” Dean breathed, looking up at his brother. “Did you grow again? What the hell are they feeding you, soylent green?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Maybe you should’ve drank more milk.”

“Maybe you should’ve drank more milk,” Dean replied in a mocking tone. “Your hair looks lovely, by the way. Don’t tell me you got all prettied up for little old me.” He sniffed the air. “What, no tag? No axe? Did you finally grow out of all that obnoxious body spray crap that you used to hose yourself down with?”

Sam started to reply and stopped as his eyes fell upon his brother’s guest.

Castiel had quietly appeared just behind Dean.

Dean followed Sam’s eyeline. “Oh yeah, I brought my roommate. Mom and Dad said it was okay.”

“Yeah, Mom told me,” Sam mumbled, trying not to stare at the gorgeous creature that was going to be living beneath their roof for the next several days.

Dean moved to the side so that Castiel could walk into the house. As he stepped over the threshold he gave a polite glance at his surroundings before turning to regard Sam.

“Hello,” Castiel said.

Sam felt his insides liquefy. He had heard that voice in the background of Dean’s snap stories, but it was one thing to hear it through an app, thousands of miles away. It was quite different hearing it in his own living room. He knew from AV class that even the best cameras left something to be desired, and a phone camera while not bad, wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of technology. Yet he realized he had underestimated just how much the snap stories had failed to prepare him. There was no way of capturing the almost ethereal quality that Castiel had in his way of simply standing there, while waiting for Sam to acknowledge him.

Dean gave his brother a strange look. “Cas, you’ll have to excuse Sammy. Having all that hair sometimes blocks the oxygen from getting to his brain.”

Sam cleared his throat. “Hi,” he managed. “It’s um, nice to meet you.” He tentatively held out his hand.

Castiel accepted it warmly, giving Sam’s hand a friendly shake. “Likewise. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Please don’t believe any of it,” Sam implored, pulling his hand back as soon as it was considered polite to do so.

Castiel laughed and Sam melted inside again.

“You don’t have to laugh,” Dean assured his roommate. “Aside from his appearance, Sam’s not really that funny.”

Before Sam could begin to properly rip into his brother, Mary came out of the kitchen and engulfed Dean in a hug.

“Play nice you two,” she chided gently. “Dean, you’ve barely been here two minutes and you’re already stirring the pot.” 

“Yeah well,” Dean said, hugging his mom back. “Someone has to do it. You and Dad spoil the kid so much, he’s liable to be the most useless freshman on campus next fall.” He released his mom and gestured to Castiel. “This is my roommate, Cas. He’s not really a hugger,” Dean advised.

“Of course,” Mary responded amicably. “I’m used to that, having raised two boys. By the time they’re thirteen, they start complaining if you so much as pat them on the back.” She gave Castiel a handshake. “Welcome to our home.”

“Thank you for having me,” Castiel replied. “I am quite glad to be here.” He looked around again. “Your home is absolutely beautiful.”

“How kind of you to say,” Mary said, beaming. “I certainly hope that some of your manners rub off on my first born.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t bet on it.” He nodded towards the hallway. “Come on Cas, let’s get you set up in the guest room.”

Sam watched as Dean led Castiel down the hall. He barely noticed when his dad came in with the rest of the bags and then hurried back out. He could see now that going even five minutes a day without making a spectacle of himself was going to be a challenge of epic proportions. _I’m done for._ He drifted aimlessly into the kitchen, only to be shooed back out by his mom and informed that dinner would be ready shortly. He settled into his chair at the dining table, his mind reeling. _Look on the bright side, he’ll probably be spending all his time with Dean, so you won’t get too many chances to look stupid in front of him._

Mary walked into the dining room carrying a stack of plates and napkins. “Sam, would you set the table?”

Sam stood up and began distributing the plates. He had just finished laying out the silverware when Dean walked into the dining room, having changed into one of his worn band shirts and a pair of UCLA sweat pants.

Sam snickered. 

“What?” Dean asked.

“I didn’t think anybody actually wore the campus merch,” Sam replied. “You know, aside from the models on the brochures.”

Dean glanced down and rolled his eyes. “Dude. You’ll figure it out once you’re in college. People go to class in their damn pajamas. It’s not nearly half the fashion show that high school tries to be. No one gives a fuck what you have on.” He leaned against the back of a dining chair. “One time, this girl showed up to a 8am lecture with one of those damn charcoal face mask things on. I was still half sleep. Scared the shit out of me when I turned around. Swear to god.”

Sam snickered again. 

“Let’s try to keep the swear words to a minimum,” Mary suggested, coming out of the kitchen with a pitcher of iced tea. “I realize that may be asking a bit much since you’re accustomed to living on your own now, but your dad and I would appreciate it if you could give it a try.”

“Sure thing,” Dean replied. “Where’s Dad anyway? Didn’t he come in yet?”

“He got a call from the shop,” Mary explained, heading back into the kitchen. “He just had to go check on something. He said he’ll be right back.”

“Of course,” Dean muttered, rolling his eyes. He pulled out his chair and sat down with an audible thump.

“Hey drama queen, you been taking some theatre classes this semester?” Sam asked, too quietly for their mom to hear. “Because you’re acting like a lil’ bitch.”

Dean leaned back in his chair. “So Sammy, how are your grades this quarter?” he said loudly.

“Great. How are yours?” Sam shot back. “Did you pass intro to finger-painting yet?”

“Don’t think just because you sprouted up like a mutant that I can’t still kick your ass,” Dean replied.

“Hey!” said Mary from the kitchen.

They each looked at one another and laughed.

“Nice to see dad is still working those long hours,” Dean said after a bit.

“It’s not as bad,” Sam replied. “He’s home a lot more than he used to be.” He shrugged. “You know how it is.”

“Yeah, I do,” Dean said speculatively. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about it actually. I don’t know if I still want to go to grad school.”

“What?!” Sam exclaimed.

“Keep your voice down,” Dean hissed. He leaned forward in his chair. “An MBA program is another two years of tuition. Plus housing costs.” He shook his head. “Dad should be spending more time at home, not working his ass off to pay my way. I should’ve gone into the Marines.”

“Dad didn’t want you to go into the Marines, remember?” Sam said. “And he’s not paying your way. He’s investing in your future,” he added, repeating the phrase their father was so fond of saying.

“Easy for you to say, brainiac,” Dean muttered. “How many scholarship offers do you have now anyway?”

“Ten,” Sam answered. “But they’re all contingent on my SAT scores. Nothing is set in stone yet.”

“Yeah, well that’s still ten more than I got,” Dean replied. He leaned back in his chair. “I should’ve spent more time being a nerd like you instead of chasing girls. Then I wouldn’t be in this situation.” He gave Sam a look over. “Are you still hanging out with that ginger friend of yours?”

Sam shot Dean an irritated look. “You know her name.”

“Charlie,” Dean said, “has got to be the world’s worst wing-woman. Beautiful girl puts you in the friend zone, and then doesn’t toss a single female friend your way. Not once. What’s up with that?”

Sam started to make a snarky reply, before he noticed that Castiel was leaning against the doorframe, watching them both with great interest. 

Dean followed his brother’s gaze. “What’s the matter Cas?” he quipped. “You never seen a dysfunctional family before?”

Castiel let out a dry laugh. “Right.” He straightened up and walked into the dining room. “Let me enlighten you as to how things play out in the Novak household.” He pointed at the vacant chair at the head of the table. “That is where my dear mother will inevitably slump face down into her watercress soup once her valium kicks in.” He pointed to the empty chair at the other end. “If my noble father is not occupied with one of his many mistresses, that is where he will sit for all of ten minutes before heading off to his study to get drunk on vintage brandy.” He placed a hand on the back of Dean’s chair. “My reprobate brother Lucifer may or may not be in jail, depending on how nice of a Christmas bonus we gave his lawyer.” He came around to Sam’s chair.

Sam held his breath as Castiel’s fingers touched down on the top of his chair, brushing slightly against his back. 

“This,” Castiel continued, “is where my perfect angel of a brother, Michael will sit, fawning dotingly over mother until he eventually grows bored and leaves, claiming some responsibility to a humanitarian mission.”

Sam released his breath as Castiel moved to the empty space beside him. 

“Here is where Raphael will regale us with his latest scheme until father signs a check just to shut him up.” He pointed across the table. “And that is where Gabriel will not appear, because he’s the only one who finds our family as insufferable as I do, and thus the seat beside his will remain vacant, because I wouldn’t show up if my inheritance depended upon it.”

Dean let out a low whistle and began a slow clap. 

Castiel smiled wryly, and took a bow. “Thank you.”

“No wonder you jumped at the chance to come home with me,” Dean said.

Castiel raised his eyebrow. “You offered, and I accepted. I would hardly call that jumping at anything.” He turned to Sam and smiled. “Of course, I am thankful that your family has welcomed me. I am very glad to be here. You really do have a lovely home.”

“It’s alright,” Dean said haltingly. “Not nearly as fancy as what you’re used to, I’m sure.”

“Sometimes,” Castiel began, turning back to Dean. “Things that are expensive are worse.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. _Did he just?!_ He cleared his throat, wondering if that reference had been intentional. _I’ve got to text Charlie._

“Yeah well,” Dean said, “I don’t know about all that. But I’m glad you agreed to come anyway. Hopefully we don’t get on your nerves too much.” He shook his head. “Man, are you lucky they finished renovating the guest room.” He jerked his thumb towards Sam. “This one snores like a freight train. If you had to share a room with him, you wouldn’t get a wink of sleep.”

Sam flushed. “Why would he have to share my room anyway?”

“Because you’re the one with the king size bed, Sasquatch,” Dean shot back. 

“I thought I told you two to play nice,” Mary said, coming out of the kitchen holding a large red platter. Heat was steadily rising from a dark golden chicken, nestled between roasted vegetables.

“You should’ve let me help you with that,” Dean admonished.

“I didn’t want to pull you away from your conversation,” Mary replied. “I know how much you boys miss each other, even though you act like you can’t stand one another. I hope chicken is alright,” she said, setting the platter on the table.

“Cas is vegan,” Dean said deadpan.

Mary turned to Castiel with a look of pure horror. “Oh… I am so sorry. Please, help yourself to the sides. There’s plenty to go around. I think I can whip up a salad real quick…” The shaking of Dean’s shoulders caught her eye.

“Dean is just kidding,” Castiel assured her, shooting a glare at his roommate, who was now laughing openly. “I’m not a vegan. I happen to enjoy meat a great deal.”

Sam choked on his iced tea.

Mary gave Dean a playful smack on the back. “You are the absolute worst. No chicken for you.”

“Just try and stop me,” Dean said, leaning forward with his knife and fork.

Sam tried to focus on the food, but his mind kept drifting back to what Cas had said. He tried to discreetly fish his phone out of his pocket and began typing to Charlie. 

S:-Quick question  
C:-shoot  
S:-Odds of str8 m quoting fav youtube show  
C:-which quote  
S:-Sometimes things that r $$$ r worse  
C:-……  
C:-gay totally gay  
C:-go 4 it

“Hey,” Mary chided.

Sam nearly dropped his phone on the floor. “Huh?” He hurriedly shoved his phone back into his pocket, praying that his mom hadn’t seen anything.

“No texting at the dinner table,” Mary reminded him. “You kids are so obsessed with technology.” She sat down in her chair. “You know what my generation had to do if we wanted to send a message to our friends?”

“Smoke signals?” Dean teased.

Mary laughed and rolled her eyes. “Watch it.” She turned back to Sam. “We had to write letters. With actual paper. You should try it sometime.”

“I think I’ll pass,” Sam replied, turning back to his food.

They all looked up at the sound of the front door. Sam glanced at Dean, not missing the look of excitement that passed over his face before he remembered to play it cool.

After a few minutes, their father, John walked into the dining room. “I’m back.” He looked appreciatively at the dining table. “That looks fantastic. And we’re eating on the good plates, I see.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw his mom blush and knew that his dad was going to pay for that comment later.

John walked over to Castiel’s chair and extended his hand. “Sorry if I seemed rude earlier. I was in such a rush, we didn’t have time to get properly introduced.”

“It’s no trouble,” Castiel replied, taking John’s hand. “I appreciate you taking time away from your work to pick us up at the airport. It’s a shame about the traffic.”

“It’s really good to meet you,” John said, shaking Castiel’s hand. “Thanks for putting up with my bonehead son. I know that he can be a real pain in the ass.”

“Most of the time I hardly even know he’s there,” Castiel joked.

Dean rolled his eyes.

John released Castiel’s hand and headed to his own chair. He pulled out his seat and sat down, reaching for the platter. “By the way, there’s a couple of cold ones in the fridge. Feel free to help yourself.”

“Cas isn’t old enough to drink,” Dean informed his dad. “He’s twenty.”

John gave his eldest son an eyeroll. “Well, I don’t think anyone is going to call the cops on us. Do you?” He turned back to Castiel. “Ignore Dean. Help yourself to anything you like.” He paused. “Within reason.”

“Thank you,” Castiel replied. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Only twenty?” Mary remarked. She looked at Castiel with surprise. “And you have your own condo already?”

“Cas is rich,” Dean explained, around a mouthful of chicken.

Castiel shot Dean a look.

“What?” Dean asked. “It’s true. You drive a Porsche.”

Sam’s eyebrows went up.

Castiel shrugged. “So? It’s LA. Plenty of people in LA drive Porsches.”

“Not while they’re still in college,” Dean shot back. “Movie producers drive them. Music execs. Not undergrads.”

“It’s not like it’s brand new,” Castiel defended, clearly trying to downplay his situation. “It’s several years old.”

“Ha!” Dean exclaimed. He pointed his fork in the direction of the garage. “Do you know how old my car is?”

Castiel sighed. “1967 Chevy Impala. You have told me about it many times.” He gave Dean another warning look. “And there is nothing wrong with it. It’s a classic car.”

“Thanks. It used to be my car,” John cut in, before Dean could antagonize their guest any further. “I was fresh out of the Marines when I bought it. My first major purchase.” He nodded towards Mary. “She wanted me to buy a Winnebago.”

Mary laughed. “I was being practical. That’s all.”

Sam let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding as the conversation turned to how his parents had met. He’d heard the story many times before, and so he leaned back in his chair, watching Cas instead. The mood immediately lightened as he listened to John and Mary, their laughter proving infectious. Even Dean became practically jovial once their mom brought out the pie for dessert. By the time the meal was over it had grown later than they realized.

“My goodness,” Mary said, looking at the clock. “It’s about time for those of us with assignments due tomorrow to get to work.”

Sam cringed inwardly. _Way to single me out._ “I was just getting ready to head up to my room.” He pushed back his chair and stood, preparing to carry his plates into the kitchen.

“Remember, school work first, social media second,” Mary added.

 _Thanks again for that, Mom._ Sam gave a terse nod as he left the dining room. He could hear the conversation continuing as he washed his dishes. His parents were clearly impressed with Castiel, not that Sam could blame them. Not only was Dean’s roommate aesthetically gifted, he was also rich apparently, and probably intelligent as well. _Then he has to be an asshole, right? Nobody is that perfect…_ Sam set his cup, plates, and utensils into the dish drain to dry and turned around.

Castiel was standing there patiently awaiting his turn at the sink.

Sam stared at him for a long moment before remembering how to speak. “Um… What are you doing?”

“I was just waiting to wash my dishes,” Castiel explained, giving Sam a strange look.

“Oh.” Sam blinked, trying not to keep staring. _I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to him. It’s like seeing a unicorn._ He swallowed. “You don’t have to do that. Just put them in the sink. I got it.”

Castiel sighed. “Please don’t let what Dean said in there affect your opinion of me. I am fully capable of doing my own dishes. I have been for several years.” 

“I figured that,” Sam replied, reaching for the plates. “But you’re our guest, and Mom would have a fit if she saw me just standing around while you did that, so…”

Castiel gave Sam a reluctant smile before handing over the dishes. “I suppose you have a point. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Sam replied. “Don’t worry. I know my brother’s full of crap.” He shot Castiel a glance. “He has a tendency to exaggerate.”

“I know one thing that he was certainly telling the whole truth about,” Castiel said. “Your mother is a wonderful cook. I don’t believe I’ve ever had anything that delicious growing up in my house.”

“Yeah, she’s great,” Sam agreed. “I can’t remember ever having a bad meal. Did your mom cook?”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “My mother couldn’t boil water to save her life. We had a chef,” he sighed. “And a maid, and a nanny, and a gardener.” He shook his head. “Pretty much anything that you could think of to pay someone else to do, we did. Perhaps Dean wasn’t so far off in his depiction of me.”

“Nah,” Sam replied. He gave Castiel a reassuring grin. “He’s definitely full of shit. I can tell.”

“How so?” Castiel asked, returning Sam’s smile.

 _Oh God…_ “Because,” Sam answered shyly, determined not to blush. “You’re still standing here talking to me.” He carefully placed the dishes into the dish drain and glanced at the doorway to the dining room. “Dean would just come in, put his stuff down on the counter and leave, expecting me to do it, since I’m already here. No thanks, no shame.” Sure enough, Sam sighed as his brother walked into the kitchen. 

Dean set his plates and cup down on the countertop. “Another one.”

“Absolutely not,” Castiel said, brushing Sam’s hand away from the plates. “Wash your own dishes, Dean.” He raised an eyebrow. “You wash your own back in LA, so you can wash them here too.”

“But Sam’s already washing them,” Dean protested.

“He actually just finished,” Castiel replied, gesturing for Sam to step aside. “The sink is all yours.” 

Sam moved to the side, watching with barely contained amazement. Aside from Lisa, he hadn’t seen anyone else put his brother in his place with such effortless grace. _Looks like Dean’s met his match._

“Really Cas? Really?” Dean said, in disbelief. “How are you gonna take his side, when I’m the one who invited you in the first place?” He shook his head. “I should make you sleep on an air mattress in the garage.”

“Try it,” Castiel replied, laughing. “As soon as we get back, I’ll call the cable company and cancel everything except for HGTV.”

“Do it,” Dean taunted. “I happen to like House Hunters. I’ll watch that shit all day if I have to.”

“Fine,” Castiel shot back. “Then I’ll cancel that too. I’ll just leave the televangelist networks.”

Dean shuddered. “Ugh. Alright, alright.” He picked his plates up. “That’s just cruel, Cas.” He began to wash his dishes. “Maybe you should change your name to Cassius, after the way you just stabbed in me in the back. I thought you were my friend.”

“Brutus was Caesar’s friend,” Castiel replied, opening the fridge. “Not Cassius, so the analogy doesn’t quite fit.” He turned back to Dean, a beer in hand. “Speaking of betrayal, that was nice how you tried to throw me under the bus to your father when he offered me a drink.” He made a deliberate show of opening the beer and taking a long swallow.

“It was just a joke,” Dean teased. “I knew he wouldn’t care either way.”

“Hilarious,” Castiel agreed. “Not quite as funny as say, no longer allowing any alcohol in my condo because I wouldn’t want to promote underage drinking, but what do I know?” 

Dean’s face paled. “You wouldn’t dare!”

Castiel gave Sam a wink. “And on that note, it has been a long day. I bid you gentlemen good night.” He walked out of the kitchen and down the hall.

Sam watched him go, his pulse racing. _I was wrong. He is perfect._ Anxiously, he turned back to Dean, hoping that his brother hadn’t caught him staring.

“So yeah,” Dean said, grabbing his own beer from the fridge. “That’s my roommate.” He shook his head. “You see what I have to put up with?” He took a swig of beer. “And if you think he’s bad now, wait until he gets comfortable around you. You have no idea.”

“I don’t think he’s going to get comfortable around me,” Sam replied. “Not with you dragging him all over Lawrence this week.”

“About that…” Dean rubbed at the back of his neck. “I actually told Cas beforehand that I was planning to spend most of my time with Lisa, so he’s pretty much going to be hanging around the house. He said he didn’t mind, that he could keep himself entertained, and it would be a nice break from the rush of LA.” He took another swig of his beer. “So you’ll probably be seeing a fair amount of him.”

“Right,” Sam mumbled, his mind reeling. This was going to be a long week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name of the Youtube series that Sam and Charlie are referring to is "The Gay & Fabulous Life of Caleb Gallo." It's hilarious and the music is so good. I recommend it if you're interested in a non-Hollywood stylized depiction of LGBT characters.


	2. Tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite his best efforts, Sam finds himself scrambling to keep his secret, while he gets to know Castiel better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of humor and awkwardness are in store for Sam as he learns more about his house guest. Any and all feedback (whether kudos or reviews) is greatly appreciated!

A true creature of habit, Sam found himself waking up late as usual. He began his familiar morning routine, flying to the shower and back to his room, where he dressed with the rushed yet meticulous air of someone who wanted to walk the fine line between not standing out and not being invisible. By the time he was ready, he knew he only had a few minutes to grab breakfast before Charlie would be waiting in the driveway. 

He descended the stairs two at a time and peeled into the kitchen, skidding to a stop just a half second after he remembered they had a guest. _Oh crap._

Castiel and Mary looked up from their seats at the breakfast nook. “Have you ever heard such a commotion? Like a one person herd of elephants,” Mary teased. She turned to Castiel. “Was it terribly noisy in your parents’ home, having five boys?”

Castiel shook his head. “Not especially. Excessive noise was highly discouraged. Not to mention, if any of us had tried to run down marble stairs, we likely would’ve ended up in the hospital. They are extremely slippery.”

“Hey,” said Sam, trying not to show how embarrassed he was. He brushed his hair back from his face. “What’s up?”

“You missed breakfast,” Castiel informed him, gesturing towards their empty plates. “Your mother cooked another delicious meal.”

“Sam likes to sleep in,” Mary explained, stirring her coffee. “Not even the promise of bacon can tempt him from the snooze button.”

“Bacon is overrated,” Sam replied, opening the freezer door. He pulled two toaster strudel out of the box and moved over to the toaster.

“You are aware that those things are entirely made of sugar, correct?” Castiel asked, eyeing the frozen pastries. “I mean truly, literally nothing but sugar.”

“I try to tell him that,” Mary murmured, sipping her coffee. “He’s like a hummingbird.” She set her cup down with a sigh. “Enjoy that youthful metabolism while it lasts. Once you get to my age, if you so much as look at a candy bar, you instantly gain five pounds.”

Castiel laughed. “What are you talking about? You look amazing.”

“Thank you,” Mary said, beaming. 

“Mom teaches women’s self defense classes down at the community center,” Sam informed Castiel. “She’s pretty kick ass.”

Mary sighed and shook her head. “And I see Dean’s language has already started to rub off on you.”

“He’s right,” Castiel defended, giving Sam a wink. “That is pretty kick ass.” 

Mary laughed, relenting. “Fine, I get it. I’m kick ass.”

The sound of a car horn cut through the air.

“And there’s Charlie,” Mary remarked. “Right on time.”

“Charlie?” Castiel asked, glancing at Sam.

“My friend,” Sam replied. “She gives me a ride to school because some people,” he gave his mom a pointed look, “don’t think I should have my own car until after graduation.”

“You could always take the bus,” Mary suggested. “Or walk. It’s not like you don’t have options.”

“Those options all suck,” Sam retorted, retrieving his breakfast from the toaster with a paper towel. “Meanwhile, Dean’s car just sits in the garage, taking up space.”

“You’ll have to talk to your brother about that,” Mary replied, sipping her coffee. “But I wouldn’t get your hopes up. I think he’s finally planning to drive it back with him over winter break.”

Sam rolled his eyes, wrapping up the pastries. “Of course.” He grabbed the icing packet off the counter and prepared to open it.

Another honk sounded out.

“Sheesh,” Sam muttered, stuffing the icing packet into his pocket. “What’s her problem? It’s the last day before break, it’s not like we’re actually going to learn anything. There’s really no point.”

“If you’re angling to cut school today, it’s not going to work,” Mary informed him.

“Yeah, I kind of figured that,” Sam replied. “See you later.”

“Bye Sam,” Mary said, giving a small wave.

“Have a fantastic day,” Castiel added.

Sam raised his eyebrows as he went out the door. “Have a fantastic day? Do you even remember high school?” He could hear Cas and his mom laughing as he closed the door behind himself. He hurried down to the car just as Charlie revved the engine, pretending to pull off.

“Thanks for being so patient,” Sam quipped, once he was inside the car.

“Is he in there?” Charlie asked, as soon as Sam had buckled his seatbelt.

Sam nodded. “Yep.”

“And?” Charlie prompted. She reached over and turned up the heater for once without waiting for Sam to ask.

“He’s perfect,” Sam sighed, glancing out the window towards his house.

“Perfect how?” Charlie asked, backing down the driveway.

“He looks even better in person,” Sam said. “He’s really nice, and he’s smart, and…”

“And what?” Charlie prompted, trying to keep her eyes on the road even though she was dying to stare Sam down until he gave up the goods.

“He’s rich,” Sam finished.

“What!?” Charlie exclaimed. “Oh that’s so not fair! Why do you get a handsome sugar daddy?” she groaned. “Where is my beautiful older goddess to come and sweep me away from all of this and pay my tuition to MIT?”

Sam snorted. “Yeah, that’s not exactly what I had in mind. I don’t care about the money or the fact that he drives a Porsche and owns a condo in LA.”

“What!?” Charlie exclaimed again, stopping at the red light. “That’s it. Get the hell out of my car. You’re walking the rest of the way.” She shook her head. “It isn’t right that you get to check off every box on your dream guy list. The universe demands justice.”

“Yeah well,” Sam said. “It just might get it.” He sighed again. “Turns out you were right after all. Dean is basically ditching him to spend time with Lisa. So he’s going to be at the house pretty much the entire time and my chances of making an ass of myself have gone up into the stratosphere.” 

“That does make me feel a little better, thanks,” Charlie said. She glanced at Sam. “So did you make a move yet?” 

Sam huffed and rolled his eyes. “Of course not. What do you think I am?”

“A guy,” Charlie quipped. “Chock full of hormones, stuck under the same roof as another guy that you happen to find massively attractive.” She shrugged and glanced briefly at Sam. “The logic of the situation dictates that you will eventually attempt to bone him.”

“Yeah well,” Sam muttered. “I don’t care what the logic dictates. I’m not going to try anything. Dean would kill me. Besides,” he glanced out the window. “I’m not entirely sure that he’s into guys.”

Charlie snorted. “Are you serious?” She cast another glance at Sam. “He casually quoted an iconic scene from The Gay and Wondrous Life Of Caleb Gallo.” She put up a finger. “That means that at the very least, he’s likely bi or extremely open-minded and probably very secure in his sexuality, however he might identify.”

Sam shrugged. “Maybe. So what’s your point?”

“My point is, you’ve been obsessing over your brother’s roommate ever since you found out that he existed,” Charlie replied. “And now, fate or dumb luck has thrown you a golden opportunity to get next to the guy of your dreams.” She stopped at the red light and turned to face Sam. “Dude, you owe it yourself to at least make out with the guy.”

Sam considered, raising his eyebrows. “He does have really nice lips,” he admitted.

Charlie gave him a pat on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit. What’s that saying you guys have in basketball? Something about missed shots?” 

“You miss one hundred percent of the shots you don’t take,” Sam answered automatically. “But I wouldn’t even know where to begin,” he mumbled, still not convinced of the wisdom of Charlie’s suggestion. “Not a clue.”

“Well,” Charlie mused. “How did you begin with Brady?” She glanced apologetically at her friend. “Or are we still not speaking his name?”

Sam shrugged. “Honestly, I’m over it. I guess that’s why I stopped mentioning him. Nothing really left to say.” 

Sam tried to think back to the beginning of his relationship with his ex, two years prior. He had realized fairly early in high school that he was interested in guys, but he had never before felt it so strongly until he first met his blonde teammate on the junior varsity basketball team. He didn’t regret his time with Brady, and even though they hadn’t exactly parted on the best terms, Sam was grateful for the experience.

“Uh, he kind of began with me actually,” Sam informed Charlie. “I thought I was being subtle about checking him out during practice, but apparently I wasn’t.” He shrugged again. “He said he only noticed me noticing him, because he was already noticing me in the first place.”

Charlie shook her head as she turned into the school parking lot. “It’s not fair. Hot people just fall right into your lap. You never have to work hard for anything.”

“I don’t think Dean’s roommate is going to just fall into my lap,” Sam replied. 

“You never know,” Charlie said, pulling into the parking space. “Or you could fall into his.”

 

Sam continued to think about his conversation with Charlie throughout the day. She was right, he did find Castiel extremely attractive, and knowing that he had the personality to match his looks just made Sam like him that much more. Still, the drawbacks were considerable. He would never make a move without being absolutely certain as to Castiel’s sexuality, and Sam damn sure wasn’t about to flat out ask him if he was gay.

Even if he was, and Sam did manage to find some measure of success through a miracle, where would that leave him? Cas was going back to UCLA on Sunday, and Sam already knew from the demise of his relationship with Brady that he wasn’t cut out for anything long distance. Even the best case scenario was doomed from the start. After careful deliberation, Sam decided to adopt a look but don’t touch policy when it came to Castiel.

As Charlie pulled up in front of his house, Sam noticed with a strange mixture of relief and anxiety that the Impala was back in the driveway.

“Looks like Dean’s home,” Charlie remarked. “I guess your grand plan will have to wait.”

“I don’t have a plan,” Sam said, unfastening his seatbelt. “I just want to survive the week without doing anything too embarrassing. That is literally my only goal.”

“Whatever you say,” Charlie said cheerfully. She smiled, her eyes softening. “And Happy Thanksgiving to you and your family.”

“Happy Thanksgiving to you too,” Sam replied, climbing out of the car. “Are you going to your grandma’s this year?”

“Nope,” Charlie said. “The folks want to wait until Christmas. So I’ll definitely be around if you need me. You know, once you actually formulate a plan.”

“Good to know,” Sam quipped, as he closed the door. He watched Charlie drive off before heading up the driveway to the front door. He opened the door, expecting to see Dean and Castiel sitting in the living room watching television, but the room was empty. _Weird._ Shrugging, he made his way to the staircase and headed upstairs.

Sam ducked into his bedroom just long enough to toss his backpack onto the floor beside his desk and went back out into the hall, heading for his bathroom. He stopped and blinked when he was met with a closed door. _Right._ He’d gotten spoiled by not having to share a bathroom with Dean for a while. He went downstairs and reluctantly approached the guest bathroom, only to be met with another closed door. _Okay…_ He went back upstairs and stood outside his bathroom, tapping his foot on the ground. _Anytime today, Dean._ When he heard the unmistakable sound of the shower starting up, he groaned. _Really?_

Resigned, he continued down the hall into his parents’ bedroom suite. Sam could probably count on one hand the amount of times he’d ever used his parents’ bathroom. Such an act was to be avoided at all costs, out of the ever-present fear that he would see something that he was never meant to see. All it would take was one box of condoms or some unknown feminine product left on display and he would be irrevocably traumatized. Quickly, he did what he needed to do, washed his hands and exited his parents’ room, careful to keep his eyes focused straight ahead.

As he walked by his own bathroom he felt a mad impulse to get revenge on Dean for subjecting him to what could’ve been an extremely damaging experience. Tentatively he tried the door knob, and was glad to see that it was unlocked. _Typical._ Being careful not to be heard over the shower, he pushed open the bathroom door. He had a brief moment of hesitation as he placed his hand on the toilet handle, but then he remembered how Dean had been pretty much zinging him nonstop since he arrived. He pushed the handle down, flushing the toilet. He didn’t have to wait long for the reaction.

“Sweet mother of Christ!” exclaimed a voice that clearly did not belong to Dean.

Sam felt all of the blood drain out of his face. _Oh my God…_ He was frozen to the floor as the realization of his mistake sank in. He watched in horror as the shower curtain was yanked partially aside and stunned blue eyes stared back at him.

Castiel stared at Sam in shock, the water spraying down around him. 

“Oh my God,” Sam stammered. “I thought… I’m so—” Without finishing his sentence, he quickly turned and fled, slamming the bathroom door shut behind him. His heart was pounding as he sprinted into his bedroom, and closed that door just as forcefully. _Oh fuck…_ He quickly dug his phone out of his pocket and fired off a text.

S:-OMG pls help  
S:-Idk what 2 do  
C:-wats wrong  
S:-Flushed toilet while he was in shower  
S:-Burnt the hell out of him  
C:-….  
C:-WHO was in shower?  
S:-….  
S:-U kno

Sam groaned at the incoming FaceTime request. Sighing, he accepted the call, only to be met with Charlie pointing and laughing hysterically.

“Hahahahahahahaha!”

Annoyed, Sam ended the call with a huff.

C:-RUDE  
C:-wen i told u to make a move  
C:-i didnt meant to cook him  
C:-guess u like ur meat well done

Sam tossed his phone on his nightstand in frustration and flopped down onto his bed. _Fuck my life._ He didn’t know how long he laid there, wishing that he could press the reset button on this day. He knew that he would eventually have to explain himself to Castiel, but he just couldn’t get over the look he’d given him. Not to mention that he’d damn near seen him naked, and that knowledge wasn’t going away anytime soon. He was sure that hadn’t been what Dean had in mind when he’d informed Sam that he’d probably be seeing a fair amount of Cas this week.

Sam was mulling over the amount of resistance he’d get from his mom if he asked to spend Thanksgiving with Charlie’s family instead, when he heard the knocking at his door. He rolled over and looked at the door, his pulse racing. _Oh no… I guess I’d better get it over with._ “Come in,” he called, sitting up.

Dean opened the door and stood there, his eyes sparkling with mirth and his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

Sam rolled his eyes and laid back down. “Don’t even say it. I already feel like a complete jackass, so just shut your mouth Dean.”

In response Dean doubled over and laughed uproariously. “Cas told me… you tried to burn him… like a Salem witch,” Dean wheezed between bursts of laughter.

Sam groaned and covered his face with his arms. “They didn’t burn the witches in Salem,” he grumbled. “They were hanged.”

“Whatever, like a Hot Pocket then,” Dean snickered, wiping away tears of laughter. He straightened up, managing to regain his composure. “Anyway, he’s fine. He’s not pissed or hurt, or anything, so don’t worry about it.”

“Great,” Sam mumbled, still not looking up. “Is that all?”

“Actually no,” Dean said, leaning against the doorframe. “Mom dug out the board games. We’re going to play Charades, if you care to come downstairs and join us.”

Sam sat up and glared suspiciously at Dean. “You always cheat at Charades.”

Dean shrugged. “It’s just a game. Not like it’s the World Series or,” he nodded towards the basketball trophies on the top shelf of Sam’s desk. “The NBA playoffs.”

“You’d probably cheat in that too,” Sam shot back.

“Please,” Dean scoffed. “Like I’d even have to. I don’t need any performance enhancing drugs.” He smirked. “Just ask Lisa.”

“And now I’m gonna throw up,” Sam said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He sighed and looked at Dean reluctantly. _Might as well face the music._ “I guess you can’t really play Charades with three people, huh?”

“Nope,” Dean replied. He waved his hand. “So hurry up and bring your ass. I’m going to grab some snacks from the kitchen.”

Sam stood up and trudged over to the door. He followed Dean down the stairs on legs that felt as though they were made of lead. His unease was not lessened by the sight of Castiel sitting on the couch, watching him as he approached.

 _Oh God, why does he have to look like that?_ Sam forced his feet to move away from the base of the staircase, and stopped just beside the couch. “Hey Cas,” he said tentatively, once Dean had entered the kitchen.

“Hello Sam,” Castiel replied, his lips quirking.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “I am really sorry about earlier.” He shifted on his feet. “I thought it was Dean in the shower. I never would’ve done that if I knew it was you.”

“I guessed as much,” Castiel replied, eyeing Sam. “Alas, Dean was in the downstairs bathroom, so I went upstairs for a quick shower.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Little did I know that it would turn into a trial by fire.”

Sam groaned and covered his face with a hand. “I’m so, so, so sorry!”

Castiel chuckled again. “It’s fine Sam. Luckily for both of us, I have a fairly high tolerance for pain. I was honestly more surprised than anything.” His lips quirked again. “Although I must say, I have developed a newfound appreciation for Lobster Thermidor, having nearly been boiled myself.”

Sam clamped his other hand over his face. “Oh God.” He heard footsteps and a moment later felt a hand gently tugging his hands away from his face. He looked down to see Castiel gazing up at him with warmth in his eyes.

“It’s fine,” Castiel said again, his tone gentle and encouraging. “I forgive you.”

Sam held his breath as he stared back at Cas. He was suddenly acutely aware of the warm fingers wrapped around his wrist. He swallowed hard, sensing that Cas was waiting for a response. “I’m glad,” he managed, his nerves on fire. “Thank you.” He dropped his eyes to where Castiel was still touching him, heat creeping up his neck.

Castiel inclined his head and released Sam’s wrist.

Dean walked into the living room with a tray of nachos and a large bag of candy. He looked back and forth between his brother and his roommate, picking up on the unspoken vibe. “Why so serious?” he quipped.

“I was just telling Sam that all is well,” Castiel explained, returning to his spot on the couch. “I bear him no ill will for the impromptu purification ritual.”

“Okay,” Dean said amicably. “Although, if you change your mind about not wanting revenge, Sam usually sleeps with his bedroom door unlocked. I’m just saying.” Dean set the snacks on the table. “Can’t go wrong with the old hand dipped in a cup of warm water routine. Simple, yet effective.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure that doesn’t actually work on anyone over the age of five, unless they’re actually too drunk to wake up.”

“Leave your door open tonight and find out,” Dean suggested. “You know, maybe I should take revenge on Cas’ behalf, since that little stunt was originally meant for me. Just because I dodged the bullet doesn’t mean I can’t return fire.”

Sam glowered.

“That is quite unnecessary,” Castiel cut in. “Let it go.” He hummed thoughtfully. “I must say, the whole experience of shared bathrooms is so unusual to me.”

“You never shared a bathroom with your brothers?” Sam asked, his eyebrows raised.

Castiel shook his head. “We all had an en suite bathroom attached to our bedrooms. We never had to share.”

“Must’ve been nice,” Sam mumbled, glancing at Dean.

“Even now, there are two bathrooms at my condo,” Castiel continued. He gave Dean a sideways glance. “And yet Dean seems to favor mine over his own.”

“Well that’s because you have a jetted tub,” Dean replied. “Who wouldn’t prefer that over a regular shower?” He shrugged. “If my taking the occasional bath in your en suite bothers you, I’d be happy to trade bedrooms.”

Castiel gave Dean an appraising look. “A cup of warm water, you say?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t even think about it,” Dean said immediately.

“Alright,” said Mary, walking into the room. “Tomorrow’s lesson plan is done, so let’s get started!” She placed the game box on the coffee table and opened it. “Did you boys pick the teams yet?”

“I want Cas on my team,” Sam and Dean said simultaneously. They turned and glared at each other. 

“He’s my roommate,” Dean declared.

“That doesn’t mean you own him,” Sam shot back.

Mary rolled her eyes. “Oh for heaven’s sake.” She turned to Castiel. “Since you’re the guest, you can pick whose team you would like to be on.” She held up her hand. “Just don’t pick me.” She jerked her thumb towards her sons. “The last time those two were on the same team, they ended up not speaking for a week. They’re terrible as competitors, but somehow even worse as teammates.”

Castiel gave a low chuckle. “Duly noted.” He looked back and forth between Sam and Dean, tapping his finger against his chin. “I choose… Sam,” he said after a minute.

Sam pumped his fist. “Hell yeah!” He turned and made the mark of the evil eye at his brother. “You’re going down!”

“That’s not fair!” Dean protested. “You can’t have two nerds on one team! It’s against the rules! It’s going to be a massacre!”

Mary raised an eyebrow and looked at Dean. “And what am I, chopped liver?” She shook her head. “Where do you think Sam’s intelligence comes from in the first place? Not to mention, your own. I love John, but I didn’t marry him for his brain.”

Dean’s mouth fell open. “I’m telling Dad.”

Castiel laughed. “She’s right, you know. The gene for intelligence is passed down through the mother.”

“Thank you,” Mary said to Castiel. She turned back to Dean. “So quit whining. Let’s play some Charades!”

A few hours later, Mary was putting the lid back on the game box while her youngest son beamed with pride and her oldest son sulked in the recliner.

“Well, that was tons of fun,” Dean muttered, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “And unfairly balanced, like I said.” He shot a baleful look at Mary.

“Oh relax,” Mary replied. “It’s just a game. You don’t see your dad and I crying when you or Sam beat us in these things.” She patted Dean on the back. “I guess this was just your time to lose. Now you know how it feels.”

Sam snickered. “I’m pretty sure Dean already knew what it felt like to lose, Mom.” He smirked. “Now he knows how it feels to get destroyed. Crushed. Annihilated.”

“Such sportsmanship,” Castiel laughed.

Dean rolled his eyes. “You know what? I don’t need this.” He stood up. “I happen to have the most beautiful girlfriend in the world, who should be getting off work…” He glanced at his phone. “Right about now, so…” He tossed up the deuces. “See you clowns later.”

“Bye sweetie,” Mary said, smiling.

“Yeah, bye sweetie,” Sam added in a mocking tone. “Try not to cry in the car.”

Dean started to flip the bird, but remembered his mom was standing there just in time. He settled for making a face at Sam as he went out the door.

“Well, that was fun,” Mary remarked. “But I think I’m going to go get some more work done. I still haven’t finished the menu for Thursday.”

Castiel looked impressed. “A menu? I’m certainly looking forward to it.”

Mary laughed. “Nothing too elaborate. This year I plan to stick to the classics. Turkey with gravy, stuffing and such. I just need to sort out the sides and the desserts.” She stood up. “Anyway, you two don’t have to stop having fun on my account. There’s a few more games in the garage. Charades was my favorite, but there might be something else you like.”

“Excellent,” Castiel replied.

“See you guys later,” Mary said, heading upstairs.

Sam watched his mom leave, wondering if he too should make an excuse to escape. When he turned back to Castiel, he was already sitting on the edge of the sofa, watching Sam expectantly.

“Alright,” Castiel said. “Let’s play.”

Sam blanched. “Play what?”

“Another game,” Castiel replied, giving Sam a strange look. 

Sam swallowed. _Right._ “Okay. What kind of game do you want to play?”

Castiel leaned his head to the side. “What else do you have?” he asked.

“I actually have no idea,” Sam admitted. “It’s been a while since we played anything other than Charades and Taboo, but you need more than two people to play Taboo.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “Do you have Cards Against Humanity?”

“Not anymore,” Sam mumbled, remembering his mom unceremoniously dumping the set into the trash after a string of increasingly crude combinations courtesy of Dean and their dad trying to outdo one another. “I’ll check the garage,” he offered. “We moved all the games when we renovated the guest room.”

“Alright,” Castiel agreed. “Need any help?”

“No,” Sam said, standing. “I got it. I’ll be right back.” Sam walked to the door at the end of the hallway which lead out into the garage. He opened the door and then flipped the light switch up. He glanced around, already feeling the cold. His eyes landed on the old white bookshelf that used to be his and Dean’s, and saw with some dismay that there were only two games left on it. _Great._ He quickly grabbed them both and went back into the house, hoping that Castiel would change his mind once he saw them.

Castiel looked up as Sam walked back into the living room. “So, what did you find?”

“All I could find were Jenga and Twister,” Sam said, setting the boxes down on the coffee table. “I guess Mom must’ve taken the rest to the Salvation Army already.”

“I’ve played Jenga,” Castiel replied. “And I’ve heard of Twister, but I’ve never had the occasion to play it.” He studied the boxes. “I’m open to either option. Which would you prefer?”

“Jenga,” Sam said immediately. He had mentally debated whether or not to even tell Castiel about Twister. The less opportunity for physical contact, the more likely he would make it through the week without alerting Cas to his interest in him. 

“Then Jenga it is,” Castiel said, sitting down on the floor. He opened the box and carefully set it upside down on the coffee table, sliding the tower into place. He lifted the box and set it aside, meticulously smoothing the sides of the tower. “It had to have been an engineer to come up with a game whose sole object is to compromise the integrity of a structure in such a way that your opponent becomes responsible for its destruction.”

Sam blinked. “I guess I never thought about it that way.” He sat down opposite Castiel. “You want to go first?”

“Sure,” Castiel replied. He gently pushed the bottom middle piece out of the tower.

Sam took his turn and watched as Castiel continued the game. They went back and forth, removing the wooden planks one at a time.

“Your hands are really steady,” Sam said after watching Castiel effortlessly remove a tricky piece.

“They’d better be,” Castiel replied. “I’m studying to become a doctor.”

“Wow,” Sam said, his eyebrows raised. “You’re pre-med?”

Castiel nodded. “And you?” He looked up at Sam, his eyes curious. “What do you plan to major in?”

“Pre-law,” Sam answered.

“How interesting,” Castiel mused, smirking slightly. “Perhaps one day our paths will cross again in the future. I’ll hire you to represent me in my inevitable malpractice suit. People are so litigious these days.”

“I haven’t decided what kind of law I want to practice yet,” Sam confessed, carefully removing the next piece.

“You still have plenty of time,” Castiel assured him. “I haven’t even decided on what I want to specialize in, and I’ll be starting medical school in two years, so it is a matter of some urgency…” He winced as the tower finally collapsed into a pile of wooden planks. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not planning to become an engineer.”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Shall we play Twister now?” Castiel asked, carefully stacking the pieces back into the Jenga box.

 _Damn, I was hoping he’d forget._ Sam reluctantly stood up. “Yeah, okay.” He moved the coffee table several feet to the side, leaving a large open space between the sofas and the television stand. He opened the Twister box, his mind racing. _It’s fine. Be cool. It’s just a game. Get your mind out of the gutter and just play the damn game._

Castiel watched as Sam unfolded the vinyl mat and smoothed it out on the floor. “Interesting. And this is a game that adults play?”

“The mat looks a lot smaller than I remember,” admitted Sam, taking off his sweater. He smoothed down his t-shirt and stepped up to the edge of the mat.

“That’s because you’ve likely grown quite a bit since then,” explained Castiel, rising to his feet. He looked Sam over. “I imagine this might be somewhat difficult for you, given your height.” He stepped up to the opposite edge of the mat and looked up at Sam. “Shall we begin?”

Sam swallowed, trying not to let his nervousness show. “Okay. Since there’s no one to use the spinner, we each take turns calling out a body part, and then the other person calls out a color. We both have to move at the same time, and we can’t share any circles.” He swallowed again. “Some body contact is pretty much unavoidable, but nothing can touch the mat other than hands or feet. First person to fall loses.”

“I would say that body contact is all but guaranteed given the size of the mat and the size of you,” Castiel laughed. He placed a hand over his heart. “But I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”

 _Wish I could say the same._ Sam’s anxiousness was being compounded by the knowledge that if any part of him came into contact with any part of Cas, his body was likely to react. He hoped that he could outmaneuver Cas from a distance, or else things were going to get awkward.

“So?” Castiel said, his eyebrow raised.

“So, one foot goes on yellow, the other goes on blue,” Sam said. “That’s how we start.” Taking a deep breath, he stepped onto the mat, and watched as Cas mirrored him from the opposite side. 

“And now?” Castiel asked, his voice low.

It took everything Sam had not to let his mouth drop open. There was something very feral in Cas’ tone and his eyes were laser focused on Sam, attuned to his every move. “I’m starting to sense that you’re kind of competitive,” Sam said.

“A fair statement,” Castiel agreed. “Left hand?”

 _Damn, going straight for the hands already!_ “Uh, yellow,” Sam answered. They both bent forward and placed their palms on yellow circles. Sam noted with some alarm that Cas was reaching in his direction. “Left foot?”

“Blue,” Castiel replied, not moving. “Mine is already there.”

Sam snorted, as he moved his foot. “So? You still have to move. You can’t stay put, pick a different blue circle.”

Castiel gave Sam a long look, before moving directly beside his circle. “Right hand?”

“Green,” Sam answered, not liking the way that Castiel was watching him. _It’s like he’s hunting me._ “Left hand?”

“Red,” Castiel said, already moving. “Right foot?”

“Yellow,” Sam replied, watching Cas moving closer to his side of the mat. “I know what you’re doing.”

“I’m playing the game,” Castiel replied. “Which body part?”

“You can play the game without coming over to my side of the mat,” Sam informed him. “Right hand.”

“Green,” Castiel said. “I could play the game that way, but where’s the fun in that?” He chuckled. “Left hand.”

“Blue,” Sam said, starting to feel the stretch. “I probably should’ve warmed up beforehand.” He tried to shake out his shoulders without lifting his palms from the mat. “Left foot.”

“Yellow,” Castiel replied with a hint of triumph.

As soon as Sam looked at the mat he understood why. _Oh shit…_ The only yellow circle within reach was on the other side of Cas, which meant that he was either going to have to go over him or under him to claim it. Either action would bring him into direct physical contact with his crush. “Why do you have to be so strategic? What do you think this is?” Sam muttered. “Chess?”

“Don’t stall,” Castiel admonished. “Move.”

Sam took a deep breath and moved, arching over Cas. He could feel the solid heat of him through his t-shirt and deeply wished that he had kept his sweater on. _Think calm thoughts. Calm thoughts…_

“Right foot?” Castiel asked, his tone impossibly polite.

“Green,” Sam said quickly, trying to put some distance between them. “Right hand?”

“Red,” Castiel said, snaking around beneath Sam. “Left hand.”

 _Oh my God…_ “Blue,” Sam said, struggling to ignore the warmth of Cas’ thigh pressed against his own. _Calm thoughts… Fuck it. I’m not going to make it. Maybe I should just forfeit now._ “Right foot—”

They both looked up at the sound of the front door opening. 

“Hey,” Dean called, walking into the living room. He stopped and stared at the strange sight in front of him. “What in the hell is going on here?”

“What does it look like?” Sam huffed, his arms beginning to shake. “We’re playing Twister.”

Dean sighed. “Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of.” He shook his head. “Now Cas,” he said, “you know damn well that ain’t fair.”

“What isn’t fair?” Sam ground out, struggling to remain upright.

Dean walked over to Sam and leaned down so they were eye level. “Cas is flexible to an almost inhuman degree. You don’t stand a chance.”

“Shut up Dean,” Castiel cut in.

“What?” Sam breathed. “How do you know?”

“One time we crashed a frat party, and I watched him clear a limbo bar on the lowest rung. It was practically on the floor.” Dean glanced at Cas. “He backbends under it like it was nothing.” He walked over to his roommate and stared down at him. “So how do you do it? Are you like a big mouse or something?”

“What?!” Castiel asked, incredulous.

“You know what I mean.” Dean waved a hand. “Can you like flatten out your spine and squeeze under doors and shit? Because it honestly creeps me out, but I gotta know.” He leaned down so that he was eye level with Castiel. “What’s your secret, Ratatouille?”

Castiel collapsed onto the Twister mat with an indignant scoff. “Goddammit!”

“Oh thank God,” Sam breathed, finally letting himself flop onto the mat. He sighed with relief as the sensation rushed back into his limbs. “I thought my arms were going to fall off.” 

“First of all,” Castiel said, pointing up at Dean. “Ratatouille is the name of the dish! Not the rat!”

Dean threw back his head and laughed. “Jesus Cas…” He leaned down and elbowed Sam in the shoulder. “I call him a big mouse and he doesn’t get too offended, but get the name of the dish confused with the cartoon rat and now he’s got an attitude.” 

Sam couldn’t help but laugh, relieved that he’d been rescued from an awkward situation. “Sorry Cas.”

“I see how it is now,” Castiel replied. “The two of you conspire against me.” He shook his head. “And here I thought I was amongst friends.”

“Cry about it,” Dean retorted, reaching his hand down. He helped Castiel to his feet. “What type of brother would I be if I let you give Sam a bad back because he doesn’t know you’re a freak of nature?”

Castiel rolled his eyes and turned to Sam. He offered his hand.

Sam accepted his hand but used his own momentum to rise to his feet, not wanting to pull Cas down again. “Good game,” he said sheepishly.

“It was,” Castiel replied, giving Dean a sideways glance.

“Dude, why are you guys playing Twister anyway?” Dean asked, ignoring Cas’ glare. “What is this, a slumber party?” Without looking he reached over and gave Cas a light shove, which earned him a smack on the shoulder. “Why don’t you play Cards Against Humanity?”

Sam’s brows furrowed. “Mom threw it out, remember?”

“Yeah,” Dean replied. “And I dug it out of the trash in the middle of the night. Dude, that set cost like fifty bucks.” He nodded towards the stairs. “It’s been in my room ever since.”

“Wonderful,” Castiel said. “Please go get it.”

“I will,” Dean agreed. “But we’re not playing it out in the open. We’ll play it in your room. I’m not trying to go trash fishing again, alright?”

“What are you doing back here anyway?” Sam asked. “I thought you had plans with Lisa.”

“I did,” Dean replied, heading for the stairs. “She got called in to work a double shift. Good thing too, or else Cas would have you twisted into a pretzel by now.” He went upstairs.

Sam could feel the heat rising in his face. He glanced briefly at Castiel.

“Dean’s right,” Castiel admitted, walking towards the guest room. “I do have a rather unfair advantage when it comes to that sort of thing. I’m sorry for not disclosing the fact.”

“It’s cool,” Sam replied, following him. “I kind of deserved it for burning you anyway.” He paused in the doorway of the guest room, watching nervously as Castiel settled himself on the bed. “By the way, was everything okay with uh, the room and stuff?”

Castiel nodded. “Everything is perfect. It’s all quite comfortable.” He leaned his head to the side. “Your mother tells me that you picked it out?”

Sam struggled to keep the blush at bay. “I did.”

“You have very good taste,” Castiel informed him. 

“Thanks,” Sam stammered, averting his eyes. He noticed the open suitcase on the floor in the corner, filled with books.

Castiel followed his gaze. “Ah yes, my traveling library. I never go anywhere for an extended period of time without some form of reading material.”

“So I see,” Sam replied, still gawking at the collection of books. “You don’t like kindle?”

Castiel shook his head. “I’m a very tactile person. Touch is important to me. It conveys meaning. E-readers will never replace books in my life.” He glanced at his suitcase. “Of course, it would be nice if they didn’t weigh so much.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. He cleared his throat. “What’s your favorite—”

“Alright,” Dean said, rolling his mom’s office chair into the room. “Time for some revenge for the way you two ganged up on me earlier. Prepare to have your asses handed to you on a silver platter.”

“Where’s my chair?” Sam asked, as Dean opened the card box.

“Sit on the floor,” Dean suggested, shuffling the cards. “You’re like a baby giraffe anyway, you’ll be able to see just fine from there.”

“You can sit on the bed,” Castiel offered, scooting over. 

Sam gingerly sat down on the very edge of the mattress, as far away from Castiel as he could get without standing. 

Dean pushed the chair to the edge of the bed and sat down. He dealt each of them ten white answer cards and set the stack to the side. He then picked up the black stack of cards, flipped over the top card and set it face up on the bed. “Alright so… ‘When I am President of the United States I will create the department of ___.’”

They each reviewed their own white cards, looking for the most inappropriate answer. Sam stared at his cards with dismay. By some cruel trick, every single option he had was sexually charged. _Why is this happening to me?_

“Alright,” Dean said. “Toss ‘em down.” He placed his white card down on the bed. “Crucifixion.”

“An inspired choice,” Castiel remarked, placing his own card. “Pretending to care.” They both glanced at Sam.

 _Fuck… They’re all horrible, it’s a horrible game, just pick one._ Sighing, Sam placed his card. “Man meat.”

“Oh gross,” Dean laughed. “That’s pretty awful. What do you think Cas?”

Castiel appeared to mull it over. “The name could use some work, but I think being crucified by the government is the worst possible option, so I’ll give you the point Dean.”

“Ha,” Dean said. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.” He tossed the used cards back into the box and flipped over a new black card. “‘With enough time and pressure ___ will turn into ___.’ Alright it’s a pick two, so everyone draw two cards.” 

They all drew two fresh white cards and reviewed their hands. “Okay,” Dean said. He placed his two chosen white cards. “Crippling debt and grave robbing.” He shrugged. “Not my best hand, but let’s see.”

“An ether-soaked rag,” Castiel said confidently, placing his cards. “And some god-damn peace and quiet.”

Dean blinked, taken aback. “Wow Cas. Who knew you had so much darkness in you. That’s a winning hand, though. I’ll give you that.” He turned to Sam. “What you got?”

Sam sighed and placed his cards. “A gentle caress of the inner thigh and…” He shook his head. “Doin’ it in the butt.”

“Well, you’re not wrong!” Dean laughed. “That is always a possibility, I guess. Not that _I_ would know.” He glanced at Cas. “Still, I’m going to have to give the point to Cas, for sheer depravity.” He swept the used cards back into the box.

They played several more rounds, each hand convincing Sam that this deck was out to get him. The game was evenly scored but he continued to draw the most suggestive cards again and again. He had long since lost the ability to make eye contact with Castiel or even Dean. By the time they were nearing the end of the game, Sam was more than ready to call it quits. 

“Alright,” Dean said, sensing that the energy level was dropping. “Last hand before calling it for the night. Winner take all.”

“Well that hardly seems fair,” Castiel yawned. “But I’ll allow it.”

“Sure,” Sam agreed. _Finally._

Dean turned over the last black card. “‘If God didn’t want us to enjoy ___, then he wouldn’t have given us ___.’” 

They each drew their last two white cards. Dean placed his cards and nodded approvingly. “The violation of our most basic human rights and… court-ordered rehab.”

“How very socially conscious of you,” Castiel said, placing his own cards. “Alcoholism and Nickelback.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “No point for you. Nickelback jokes are played out.” They both turned to Sam.

Sam pressed his lips together and placed his two cards, determinedly not looking anyone in the eyes. “The size of my penis and…” He sighed. “The whole goddamned thing.”

Dean blinked and then burst into laughter. “Talk about a lucky hand. I think that’s a winner.” He turned to Castiel. “What do you think Cas?”

“I think,” Castiel said, looking at Sam with his eyebrow raised. “That’s game. Congratulations Sam.”

Sam briefly glanced at Castiel before immediately averting his eyes again. “Thanks.” He slid off the bed and stood up. “Well, goodnight.” As he walked out into the hall, he could still hear them talking.

“I just realized that I haven’t won a single game today,” Dean complained. “Rematch?”

“I’m tired,” Castiel replied. “If you want to play, you’ll have to play with yourself.”

Sam grimaced.

“Yeah,” Dean snickered. “I’ll bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Alright. I can take a hint. ‘Night Cas.” He rolled the chair out of the room.

Sam quickly went up the stairs before his brother could see him. _What the hell was that about?_ “This is getting more complicated by the minute,” he mumbled, as he went into his bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! And much thanks to Cards Against Humanity for making such a hilarious game. Those are all actual cards in the game, by the way. I don't recommend playing it with your family!


	3. Wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel helps Sam and Dean out of a mild crisis, while Sam continues waging a losing battle against indecent thoughts whenever his brother's roommate is near, which is all the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all feedback (whether reviews or kudos) is greatly appreciated!

Sam had remembered to turn off his alarm the night before, so he was more than a little disgruntled to be awakened from a blissfully deep sleep by a gentle shake of his shoulder. He attempted to ignore it, his consciousness stubbornly refusing to engage with this unwelcomed new stimuli trying to prod him into lucidity. When the gentle shake grew slightly more pronounced, Sam reluctantly broke through his haze just enough to form words of discouragement. “Mom,” he grumbled, pulling the blankets over his head. “We don’t have school today. Let me sleeeeeeeeep.” His mission complete, he rolled over towards the wall.

“Well alright then,” answered a distinctly non-feminine voice. “I’ll leave you to it.”

 _Wait..._ Sam lowered the blanket and tentatively glanced back over his shoulder.

Castiel was looking back at him, amusement evident in his eyes.

 _Definitely not Mom._ Sam slowly rolled back over, his face reddening. “Uh sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

“No, I’m the one who should apologize,” Castiel replied. “I suppose I’ve forgotten what it’s like to sleep in. I should’ve known better than to disturb you on the first day of a school break.” He glanced briefly around the room before returning his gaze to Sam.

“It’s cool,” Sam said, his thoughts still slightly fuzzy. He was vaguely aware that his lingering fatigue was most likely the only thing keeping him calm about the fact that his crush was standing beside his bed. _Is this a dream?_ He briefly considered trying to discreetly pinch himself before deciding that if this were actually a dream, Castiel would most likely be in his bed, rather than simply next to it. _So… not a dream then. Why is he here?_ “Everything okay?” he yawned.

Castiel nodded. “Everything is fine. From what I’ve gathered, you’re not exactly a morning person, so forgive me if what I have done is inexcusable,” he began. “But your mother made waffles earlier. I’m not certain if this is a rare occurrence in your household, but I thought you should know that at this very moment, Dean is attempting to consume all of them, sparing none for you.”

“That jerk,” Sam mumbled. He groaned and stared up at the ceiling, debating whether he should get up or go back to sleep. “It’s not exactly rare, but I do like waffles,” he admitted after a few moments.

“As much as you like toaster strudel?” Castiel asked, with a knowing smile.

“I don’t know about all that,” Sam demurred, scratching his head. He cleared his throat. “But, uh thanks for letting me know.”

“Of course,” Castiel said. He started walking towards the door, and then glanced back over his shoulder when Sam failed to move. “Are you coming downstairs?”

Sam sighed and looked up at the ceiling again. The waffles honestly weren’t that big of a deal to him. He could always ask his mom to make him a whole batch once Dean went back to college, but it would be nice to hang out with Cas for a while. _Breakfast should be harmless enough._ “Yeah, I guess.”

“Dean was wrong about you, by the way,” Castiel announced, stopping just inside the doorway.

Sam sat up, now fully awake. _What the hell?! He’s been talking shit?!_ “What do you mean?”

“You don’t snore like a freight train,” Castiel explained. “You were very quiet. I don’t think I would’ve had a problem sharing a room with you, at all.”

Sam swallowed, trying to ignore the jolt of heat that raced through him at the thought. _This is no way to start the day._ “Oh,” he said finally. “Okay.”

“Well, I’ll see you in the kitchen,” Castiel replied. He stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

Sam flopped back down on his mattress, his heart pounding as the realization that Cas had actually been in his bedroom finally hit him full force. He could see now there would be no peace, no sanctuary, nor escape. As long as Cas was under his roof, he was going to be in a constant state of torment. He knew that Cas couldn’t help being so attractive any more than Sam could help the way that he reacted to his presence. He had wanted to know him, ever since he’d seen him on Dean’s snap stories and now he was here, twisting Sam into knots with the barest hint of a smile or a sideways glance. _Next time I’ll be careful what I wish for._

Sam sighed and threw off the covers, resigned to his fate. He was at least grateful that he had been keeping his room reasonably neat these past few days. If Castiel had caught him when the place was a mess, Sam likely would’ve died of shame. _I wonder what his condo looks like. It’s probably immaculate, just like the rest of him._ He pulled on a pair of dark grey sweatpants, not bothering to change out of his thin black tank top that he’d worn to bed. _It’s just breakfast. I’ll probably end up coming right back upstairs afterwards anyway and then I’ll change after I shower._ He gave his hair a cursory combing with his fingers, before leaving his room and making his way downstairs.

“Cas, you snitch,” Dean said, as Sam entered the kitchen. He pointed his fork at his roommate. “You and I are going to have a long talk about bro code when we get back to LA.”

“Is there nothing in the code that prohibits the consuming of your brother’s food?” Castiel questioned, already setting his freshly washed dishes in the dish drain to dry.

 _Damn,_ Sam thought, hoping that his disappointment wasn’t obvious. _I guess he already ate. So much for hanging out over breakfast._

“You snooze, you lose,” Dean retorted, glancing at his brother. “And how about you put some clothes on, Magic Mike. No one wants to buy tickets to your gun show.” He gestured towards his plate. “I’m trying to eat here.”

Sam rolled his eyes and reached into the cabinet for a plate. 

“Here,” Castiel offered, holding out a clean plate. “I already took one out for you.”

“Thanks,” Sam said, accepting the plate. His fingers brushed against Cas’ and for a moment he wished he had chosen something other than sweatpants. _Calm thoughts._ He quickly moved away to the refrigerator. _Calm thoughts._ He opened the door and looked inside. _The fuck!_ “Dean,” he growled. “Did you drink all of my orange juice?”

“Well, technically there’s almost half a glass left, if you don’t mind some backwash,” Dean quipped.

“Dude,” Sam groaned, flinging the door shut. “Why? Why do you always do this crap to me?!”

“Calm your tits,” Dean ordered, setting his fork down. “First of all, I didn’t see your name on it. Second of all, like I said, you snooze, you lose. And third of all, there’s probably another one in the back of the fridge somewhere.”

“I didn’t see another one,” Sam shot back.

“Well, that’s probably because you weren’t looking hard enough.” Dean stood up and walked over to the fridge. “If I find it, you owe me twenty bucks.” He opened the door and looked around. “I’m sure it’s in there.” He started moving the items around on the shelves. “Wait a minute... Oh shit,” he breathed.

“What?” Sam snapped.

“It’s not in the fridge,” Dean stammered. “Sammy, it’s not in there!”

“The orange juice?” Castiel asked, his brows furrowed. “Is orange juice really so highly coveted in the Midwest?”

“Oh man,” Sam groaned, the knowledge of what his brother was actually referring to sinking in. He set his plate on the counter and glared at Dean. “Again?! Are you serious?!”

“I know, I know!” Dean said, shutting the fridge door. “Shit! What are we gonna do?”

“What is going on?” Castiel asked, even more thoroughly confused by the spectacle playing out in front of him.

“Dean forgot to put the turkey in the fridge,” Sam explained. “Every year, he’s supposed to bring the turkey out of the freezer, and put it in the fridge to thaw.” He shot his brother another glare. “Sometimes he gets it right. But other times…” He shook his head. “Where is it then?”

“Where do you think?” Dean grumbled.

“With you, it could be anywhere,” Sam muttered.

“Oh come on, that was one time!” Dean argued, slapping his palm on the countertop. “Give me a break, Sammy.” He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s in the garage freezer. I’m sure of it.”

Sam rolled his eyes and stomped out of the kitchen and down the hallway. He yanked open the garage door and stalked over to the freezer, barely feeling the chill of the concrete floor beneath his feet. He flipped up the lid on the long white chest freezer. Perched atop cases of frozen burgers and venison from his dad’s occasional hunting trips was the modestly sized Butterball turkey that was supposed to serve as their main course the next day. Groaning inwardly, Sam rolled the turkey over and tried to make out the thawing instructions on the frost covered label. “Two to three days,” he muttered. “That’s just great.”

“What’s the patient’s prognosis?” Castiel teased, standing directly behind him.

Sam barely managed to keep from jumping halfway across the room. _Jesus, he’s quiet!_ He closed the freezer lid and turned around. “Well doc, the good news is it’ll be ready to cook by Saturday, at the latest. The bad news is tomorrow is going to suck.” He sighed. “Sorry Cas, I know how much you were looking forward to it.”

“Never mind that,” Castiel replied, shaking his head. He looked Sam over. “You should come back inside. It’s freezing out here.” He slowly brushed the back of his hand against Sam’s arm, smoothing away the chill bumps. “Your skin is already cold as ice.” He turned and walked towards the garage door.

Sam’s jaw twitched, heat spreading in his lower abdomen. _Oh no…_ He knew from experience that there was a fine line between being friendly and flirting, and he could easily spend his entire day trying to analyze which side of the divide Cas’ casual touch had landed on. His body had unequivocally decided that Cas was giving him the green light, even while his brain was insisting that he not read into things too much. _I don’t have time for this! We’ve got more important things to worry about._ He cast one last glance at the freezer, before following Castiel back into the house.

“So?” Dean asked, when Sam and Castiel reappeared in the kitchen. He drummed his fingers anxiously on the countertop. “Was it in there? Frozen?”

“No Dean, it was piping hot and ready to eat,” Sam replied, rolling his eyes. “I mean, it is what it is. But you’re gonna be the one to call Mom and tell her. I’m not gonna do it.”

“Hey, I’m not the only one who lives here,” Dean argued. “Everyone opens the fridge. Somebody else should’ve noticed before now.”

“I guess we all just assumed it was in there somewhere,” Sam admitted. “Behind all the other stuff.”

“It’s a fridge, not the doorway to Narnia,” Dean grumbled. “This isn’t all my fault. I only got here two days ago. You could’ve put it in the fridge yourself, anytime you wanted to instead of leaving it up to me.”

“It’s your responsibility,” Sam reminded him. “You bring in the turkey on Monday, I put up the Christmas tree on Friday. You literally have one job.” He rolled his eyes again. “I can’t believe you screwed it up two years in a row. It won’t be thawed for a couple of days, but at least it’s still edible this time.”

Castiel raised his eyebrows. “This time? Is it usually not edible?”

“Last year Dean forgot to even put the turkey in the freezer in the first place,” Sam explained. “He just left it on the garage floor after we got back from the grocery store. We didn’t figure it out until a few days later, when the smell of rotten meat starting seeping into the house.”

“It was an honest mistake,” Dean insisted, rubbing a hand over his face. “It could’ve happened to anybody. I had a lot on my mind, okay?”

“So do I, but I’ve never left a frozen turkey on the ground,” Sam defended. “One phone call from Lisa, your brain shuts down, and then we have to spend the whole weekend trying to get the smell out of the garage.”

“It’s no worse than the stench of your dirty laundry,” Dean argued. “I think the first business I open is going to be dedicated to patenting a deodorant that can finally conquer your body odor.”

Sam bristled.

“Why don’t we just go to the grocery store right now?” Castiel cut in, stepping between them. “We can get another turkey. One that isn’t frozen.”

Dean groaned. “That’s what we did last year, but they were all sold out. We ended up with two chickens.”

“Well, that’s an option,” Castiel replied. “But we won’t know what they have until we take a look.” He glanced back and forth between Sam and Dean. “It’s almost eleven now. If we hurry, we can get there and back before your parents come home. No one ever needs to know that anything was amiss.”

“What about a blow dryer?” Dean asked. “Put it in the bathtub and heat it up, turn it over a couple times.” He glanced at Sam. “What do you think?”

“Try it and I’m calling Dad,” Sam said immediately. “I’m not going to let you poison us just because you’re too afraid of getting yelled at.”

“Hence, the grocery store,” Castiel suggested again. “What time do your parents typically return home?”

“Well, Mom is teaching all day today, so she won’t be back until after four,” Sam replied. “Dad is probably going to be at the shop until around seven. Maybe even eight.”

“In that case we have plenty of time,” Castiel said. “Although, the longer we wait, the greater the odds grow that you will be having chicken again.”

Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Alright. We’ll give it a shot. I mean, worst case, we’ll get a duck or something.”

 

Once Sam had finished his own breakfast at Castiel’s insistence, then showered and changed under his own insistence, the three of them piled into Dean’s car and set out for the local grocery store. Still seething from Dean’s insult about his hygiene, Sam had considered asking Cas how riding in a Porsche compared to riding in an Impala, but he sensed that Cas would never be crass enough to indulge in such rudeness. Aside from that, Dean was already wound tightly enough that Sam found himself longing for Charlie’s far more grandmotherly driving style. As they pulled into the parking lot, Dean’s spirits were somewhat lifted to see that the place did not appear to be particularly crowded. 

“That’s a good sign, right?” Dean asked, once they were all inside. “Not too many people here.” He pushed the shopping cart towards the meat department.

“Possibly,” Sam said, his voice filled with doubt.

“Or a very bad one,” Castiel announced, his eyes falling upon the almost completely empty refrigerated display bins.

“Oh no,” Dean groaned. “No wonder there’s hardly anyone here. They don’t have anything left!”

“Keep searching,” Castiel suggested. “Perhaps there’s one that has been overlooked. It might be slightly smaller than you were expecting, but I’m sure that we could make it work.”

“Or it might be freaking huge,” Sam cut in, pointing. “Check that one out.”

Dean and Castiel moved over to where Sam was standing. A lone turkey was sitting in a refrigerated bin near the meat counter, seemingly overlooked by the other shoppers.

“It would appear that we’re in luck,” Castiel said. “Excellent work, Sam.”

Sam shrugged nonchalantly, while inwardly beaming.

“Way to come through in the clutch, Sammy,” Dean agreed, playfully cuffing his brother on the shoulder. “You’re the real MVP.”

“Shut up,” Sam replied, rolling his eyes.

“Alright,” Dean said, reaching into the bin. “Let’s get this baby home to— holy shit!” he exclaimed, paying no mind to the reproachful stares he earned from the few other shoppers within earshot. “One hundred and twenty-five dollars! Is this supposed to be a joke?!”

Castiel’s eyebrows shot up. “I am admittedly unfamiliar with the typical cost of poultry in Kansas, but that does seem somewhat excessive.” He stepped in for a closer look, reading over the label. “No, it’s not a joke,” he confirmed. “That is the correct price.”

“Why?!” Dean demanded. “Why is it so damn expensive?! It’s not even cooked! Is it filled with gold and diamond stuffing?! What the hell is going on in the world?!”

“Maybe because of the size,” Sam suggested, eying the turkey warily. It was noticeably larger than the one back in their freezer. There was no way they were going to be able to pass this off as the same bird. “That thing has to be at least twenty pounds.”

“Twenty-five actually,” Castiel announced, rolling the bird onto its side. “At five dollars per pound.”

“But why?!” Dean groaned again. “It’s Thanksgiving! It should be on sale!”

Castiel gave his roommate a bemused look. “For a business major, you certainly seem to lack a fundamental understanding of free market economics. This is a simple case of supply and demand. Why would a store need to put something on sale, when everyone is going to buy it anyway?” He rolled the turkey over again. “Not to mention, this particular specimen happens to be an organic, free-range, pasture-fed tom, so you are going to pay a premium for that regardless of the time of year.”

“That explains why it’s the only one left,” Sam mumbled. “No one in Lawrence is going to pay that kind of money for a damn turkey, not even on Thanksgiving. They’d rather eat chickens.”

“There aren’t even any chickens left,” Dean announced, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “Just a couple of Cornish hens.” He sighed in exasperation. “Fuck my life.”

“Why don’t you call Lisa and ask if she wants to try to smuggle it out for us,” Sam joked. “She could pretend to be pregnant.”

“Hilarious,” Dean muttered. “I hope you think it’s equally hilarious when there’s nothing to eat tomorrow but vegetables and stuffing. Can you even really call it stuffing if it doesn’t actually get stuffed into anything?”

“From what I understand, people often consume stuffing on its own,” Castiel offered. “It’s just a name. It doesn’t necessarily have to be in the turkey.”

Dean sighed again. “Mom is gonna be so disappointed. And Dad is gonna be pissed. I take it back. I know exactly where that stuffing is gonna end up.” He shook his head. “That’s it. I’m never going home again. I’ll drop you two at the corner, and then I’ll just sleep at the airport until it’s time for my flight to take off.”

Castiel chuckled and shook his head. “Just put it in the shopping cart.”

Sam and Dean both whipped around to stare at Castiel. 

“What?” Castiel asked, even more amused by their incredulous expressions. “I’ll pay for it. It’s fine.”

“No way,” Dean said, shaking his head. “I’m not letting you spend over a hundred bucks on a damn bird, Cas! It’s ridiculous.”

“We had macaws in our greenhouse while I was growing up,” Castiel replied, waving a hand. “Do you know how much those particular birds cost? Well over a thousand dollars each, and we had seven of them.” He shrugged. “What is a hundred dollars or so compared to that?”

“But you don’t eat macaws,” Sam argued. “They’re pets.”

Castiel chuckled again. “Does that make it more or less ridiculous? I assure you, I will get far more enjoyment out of consuming this turkey tomorrow, than I ever did teaching my mother’s birds how to curse.”

“Cas,” Dean protested. He placed both hands on Castiel’s shoulders. “I know money is no big deal to you, but it’s the principle of the matter. I can’t let you do it.”

“Sam,” Castiel said, turning to his roommate’s brother. “Will you please put the gold and diamond turkey in the cart, so that we can get out of here?”

Sam looked back and forth between Dean and Castiel for a moment. Dean was shaking his head vehemently, while Castiel simply stared at him, his gaze unwavering. _Oh man…_ “Well, if you’re sure about it…”

“Think of it this way,” Castiel offered. “I have been looking forward to this meal all week. If I have to go back to LA without having eaten it, I am going to be very displeased.” He turned his gaze on Dean, and lowered his voice. “There is no way of knowing exactly how my displeasure may manifest itself. It could be highly unpleasant for someone who has to live with me.” He raised an eyebrow. “Possibly even fatal. Who can say?”

Dean sighed and let out a low laugh. He patted Castiel on the back. “Alright Cas, you win. No need to threaten my life.” He reached over and lifted the turkey out of the bin and set it carefully into the bottom of the shopping cart. “Thanks Cas. I mean it. You shouldn’t have to do this. I’m the one who screwed up.”

Castiel shrugged. “To err is to be human.”

“One of these times, I’m going to get it right,” Dean said, pushing the cart towards the register. As they rounded the corner, he stopped abruptly, his face pale.

Sam followed his brother’s eyeline. Standing at the checkout register closest to the door was Cassie, one of Dean’s many old flames from his high school years. Sam wasn’t clear on the specifics of how their relationship had ended, but he knew that if his brother’s reaction was any clue, it must’ve been unpleasant.

“Sam,” Dean hissed.

“What?” Sam asked, turning back to his brother.

Dean pushed the cart towards him. “Go pay for the bird and keep her talking. I’ll sneak out while she’s distracted.” He elbowed Cas in the side. “Give him the money. You can be my human shield.”

“Why?” Castiel asked, opening his wallet. He counted out the bills and handed them to Sam. “Who is she?”

“One of his million ex girlfriends,” Sam replied, taking the cash. He shot his brother a dry look. “No wonder you ran all the way to UCLA for college. Probably had to go that far to find someone you hadn’t slept with yet.”

“Shut up,” Dean hissed. “She’ll hear you.” He gave Sam a light shove. “Just go pay for the damn bird, okay? Cas, you stay with me. When I move, you move, got it?”

Sam gave Castiel a pitying glance, before turning and heading to the checkout register. The small line progressed fairly quickly, and once he was close enough, he placed the turkey onto the conveyer belt, being careful not to let it roll over anyone else’s groceries. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Dean gradually making his way towards the exit.

“Hey Cassie,” Sam said, once it was his turn in line.

“Hey Sam,” Cassie said, her tone friendly. Her brown eyes widened at his choice of purchase. “Our meat department manager ordered that by mistake. I honestly didn’t think anyone was going to buy that thing.” She scanned it and grimaced at the price. “Yikes. With tax, that’ll be one hundred thirty-three dollars and thirteen cents.”

Sam handed over the stack of fifties that Castiel had given him. “Here you go.”

“You must really have a craving for some free-range turkey,” Cassie remarked, keying the money into the register.

“Yeah, we’re trying something a little different this year,” replied Sam cheerfully. “You know, clean eating and all that. How’s it going, by the way?”

“Pretty well,” Cassie said. “Just one more semester, and I’m out of here.” She handed Sam his change. “I’m doing an internship for a newspaper in Chicago. I’ve already started packing, even though it doesn’t start until summer.”

“Can’t wait, huh?” Sam said.

“I’m sure you know the feeling,” Cassie replied. “You’re graduating high school in the spring, right?”

“Yeah,” Sam answered. “And then I’m most likely heading out to the west coast, but it’s not confirmed yet.”

“Really?” Cassie asked, handily wrestling the massive bird into a doubled plastic bag. “Isn’t that where Dean goes to school?”

Sam nodded. “Yep.”

“Uh huh,” Cassie said. She added a brown paper bag for good measure. “And isn’t that him, over there, hiding behind the potato chips?”

Sam cringed. “Uh…”

“It’s fine Sam,” Cassie laughed. “I’m over it. High school was so long ago, it doesn’t even count.” She handed Sam the bag. “But Pamela might still have some opinions on the matter.”

Sam froze. He might not have known how things with Cassie had ended, but he remembered the Pamela situation extremely well. The aftermath of that relationship had prompted their dad, who usually gave Dean a fair amount of leeway when it came to his extracurricular activities, to suggest that his eldest son consider joining the priesthood, because women were likely to be the death of him. “Pamela? She’s here?”

Cassie nodded. “Yeah, she started working here part-time, a few weeks ago.” She glanced past Sam. “And there she is.”

“Well, I’ll be goddamned. If it isn’t Dean effing Winchester,” announced a husky voice.

“Oh shit,” Sam mumbled. He turned and watched as Pamela approached Dean, her expression anything but friendly. 

Dean grimaced, realizing that his luck had quickly gone from bad to catastrophic. He swallowed and tried a charming smile. “Hey Pamela! It’s good to see you—”

“That’s a damn lie,” Pamela interrupted. “We both know, I am the last person you were hoping to run into.” She gave him a look-over. “I might’ve known you would come slinking back into town around the holidays. You look good, though. I can’t deny that.” She finally noticed the young man standing a few feet away from Dean who appeared to be attempting to make an escape. “Well hello handsome. Who are you?”

“He’s my roommate,” Dean answered, before Castiel had a chance to say anything. “Cas, this is Pam. She and I used to date.”

“If that’s what you wanna call it,” Pamela replied, rolling her eyes. “Roommate, huh?” She placed her hands on her hips. “Tell me Cas, does this one still keep a revolving door of women heading in and out of his bedroom?” She shook her head. “You probably don’t get a wink of sleep, with the sound of his headboard banging off the walls all hours of the day and night.”

Sam cringed and turned back to Cassie. “I’m just gonna…”

“Yeah,” Cassie agreed, cringing as well. “You might wanna get out of here. If it gets really bad, I’ll go help him out.”

“Thanks,” Sam said, gathering up the shopping bag against his chest. He cast one last look at his brother, shook his head, and walked out of the store. He was almost at the Impala when Castiel caught up to him, his expression equally amused and scandalized.

“Your brother has had quite a history with the women in this town,” Castiel remarked.

Sam laughed, nodding. “One thing I can say about Dean, he doesn’t have a specific type.” He gestured with his free hand. “They’re all his type.”

Castiel laughed and gave Sam a sideways glance. “What about you? Do you have a type?”

Sam’s mouth went dry. _I’m looking at it._ He averted his eyes, glancing up at the gunmetal sky. “Not really. You?”

Castiel shook his head. “In my experience, I’ve found that a good personality is the most attractive quality that someone can possess.” He gave a low laugh. “That said, I wouldn’t be entirely honest if I didn’t admit that I do tend to gravitate towards the classic tall, dark, and—”

“Hey!” Dean called, walking briskly across the parking lot. “Way to ditch me back there, you two.” He sped past them, and quickly unlocked the Impala. “I almost got murdered in broad daylight.”

“Yeah, but did you die?” Castiel quipped. He gave Sam a light squeeze on the shoulder and walked around to the passenger side of the car.

Sam sucked in a breath. _Okay, so that was definitely flirting, right?!_ He stood frozen in his spot, knowing he was staring openly at Cas now, but unable to tear his eyes away.

“Hurry up and get your ass in, so that we can get the hell out of here,” Dean ordered, as he slid behind the steering wheel. “I keep expecting her to come flying out of there on a broomstick.” He started the engine. “And make sure you peel the price sticker off that bird, otherwise Mom will see it, and then I’ll have two women trying to kill me.”

 

The drive home was much less tense, having achieved their goal, and they all considered their plan to be a success, until Dean saw his dad’s truck in the driveway. “What the hell is he doing home?!”

“Ah,” Sam said. “That’s right. I think I overheard something about him taking off work early so that he could try to do something different with the turkey this year. Something about brining it or whatever? Supposed to keep it from being dry.”

Dean whipped around and glared at his brother in the back seat. “You tell me this now?!”

“Look on the bright side, you always complain about him not being home enough,” Sam quipped.

“Well yeah,” Dean admitted. “But did he have to pick today of all days to prove me wrong?” He groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “Now what?”

“Now we go inside the house,” Castiel replied. “Dean, that bird is twice the size of the one in your parents’ freezer. They both strike me as intelligent people, so I doubt that your deception would’ve gone unnoticed for long. Sam, did you remove the price sticker?”

Sam nodded. “Yep. I destroyed the evidence.”

“Then, we’ve done our best,” Castiel declared, opening his door. “I must say, that was rather fun.”

“How the hell was that fun?” Dean asked, as they all climbed out of the car. “You just spent a hundred bucks at the grocery store on one damn thing.”

“One hundred and fifty, to be exact,” Castiel replied. “Although, seeing you publicly shamed by your former girlfriends was priceless. Aside from all that, I honestly cannot remember the last time I even set foot inside a grocery store.”

“What?” Sam asked, reaching into the backseat to get the turkey. “How do you eat?”

Castiel leaned down beside him. “I’m a vampire,” he teased, his voice low.

Sam barely managed to keep from smacking the top his head against the door frame. _Oh my god…_ He could feel his brain losing the battle against his body again. Cas’ voice from a distance was already enough to send chills down his spine. Right up close, warm breath against his neck, and Sam never had a chance. _I’m just going to stay here beside the car forever._

“Cas gets his groceries delivered,” Dean explained. “It’s the most unnecessary shit I’ve ever seen.” He shook his head disdainfully. “Although, him being a vampire would explain why he’s the pastiest person in LA.”

“I see the concept of sunblock continues to elude you,” Castiel replied, moving away from Sam.

Sam let out a breath of relief and hauled the shopping bag out of the car, being careful to keep it at waist level.

“You might want to familiarize yourself with it at some point,” Castiel continued, walking beside Dean up to the house. “Unless you wish to end up looking like my Louis Vuitton leather luggage set.”

“I’ll bet you can’t say that five times fast,” Dean taunted, unlocking the front door. He walked into the house, his shoulders set.

Sam followed Dean and Castiel inside, walking with them into the kitchen, where they could hear their dad in there moving things around. John looked up as they entered the room. He was leaning against the counter, holding an open beer. His expression was patient, but he was obviously waiting for an explanation.

“Hey Dad.” Dean shifted on his feet. “We, uh, didn’t expect you to be home this early in the day.”

John nodded. “Yeah, I’ll bet.” He gestured towards the refrigerator. “I took off early so that I could brine the turkey. Only there was no turkey to be brined.”

“It’s uh, still in the freezer out in the garage,” Dean explained, ignoring Sam’s snickering.

“That much I figured out son,” John replied. He took a swig of his beer. “Can’t complain, though. At least you left it inside the freezer this time, instead of on the floor next to it.”

Sam snickered again, and sidestepped quickly to dodge an elbow from Dean.

“So where’s the consolation prize?” John asked, raising his eyebrow. “I know you’ve been shopping. You’ve got that look written all over your face.” He finished off his beer and tossed the can into the recycling bin. “Whatever it is, I hope it didn’t set you back too much.”

Sam stepped forward with the bag. “I got it.”

“I’ll be damned,” John said, his eyebrows raised. “That’s one hell of a bird. How many pounds is it?”

“Uh, twenty-five, I think,” Dean answered. “It was either that one or a couple of Cornish hens.”

“Well, there will be more than enough to go around,” John replied, taking the bag from Sam. He placed the turkey in the sink. “And we’ve still got enough time for the brine to do its work, so…” He stepped over and clapped Dean on the shoulder. “Good job son.”

Sam couldn’t help but smile inwardly at the way that Dean tried and failed to hide how pleased he was.

“You boys know,” John began, his eyes crinkling. “You could’ve just thawed the frozen one in cold water. I wouldn’t have had time to brine it, but we still could’ve roasted it tomorrow.”

Dean covered his face with his palm. “I knew we should’ve put it in the bathtub.”

“You were talking about using a blow dryer,” Sam muttered. 

John laughed. “I should’ve spoken up when Mary started kicking you boys out of the kitchen while she was cooking. You two were a pain to have underfoot, but you might’ve actually learned something.” He laughed again. “Situation like this makes me feel sorry for your future wives. So how much do your Mom and I owe you for the bird?” he asked, reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

“It was no big deal,” Dean said, shooting Sam a look. “The girl at the register gave it to me for a really good price. She said she felt sorry for me.”

John sighed and shook his head. “If there’s a woman within 500 yards of you, you’ll find a way to charm her out of something. I don’t know where you get it from. Your mother was practically a saint, and I certainly never played the field half as much as you.” He rolled up his sleeves. “Well, you boys stick around if you want to learn something.” He reached for a knife to open the bag.

“I’ll pass,” Dean said, moving away from the sink. “I never could stand the smell.”

“I’m with Dean,” Sam agreed. “Sorry Dad.”

“I think I’ll stay,” Castiel said, stepping closer to the sink. “I’ve never seen one of these prepared before. Is it very difficult?”

“Store-bought is a snap,” John replied. “There’s nothing to it. It’s already plucked and beheaded, so all you need to do is clean and season it. Now wild turkeys taste the best, but I just don’t have that kind of time these days,” he explained. “When the boys were younger, I used to take them hunting a couple weekends out of the year. They hated it.”

“Hey,” Dean protested, covering his nose with the back of his hand. “We didn’t hate it.”

“I did,” Sam admitted. 

“You both did,” replied John, working on the turkey. “Sam was the most vocal about it, but Dean, I know you hated it too. You just pretended to like it, because that’s what you thought I wanted to hear. But the truth is, neither one of you are killers, and for that I’m grateful.”

“I shot a deer once,” Dean said.

“It was already dead,” Sam argued. “Dad hit it first, remember?”

“I still shot it,” Dean muttered.

“That you did,” John agreed. “At point blank range, and it took me half a day to pick all that buckshot out of it, if I remember correctly.” He laughed. “But it was worth it. That was some damn good eating.” He glanced at Castiel. “What about you, Castiel? Have you ever been hunting?”

“Never,” Castiel replied. “My brother Lucifer is a fan of hunting. Unfortunately, due to some of his poor life choices, he is now prohibited from owning any firearms.”

“Ah,” said John. “That’ll do it.”

“My grandfather was actually a big game hunter,” Castiel continued. “My parents’ house still has a trophy room where my father displays some of his achievements.” He sighed disdainfully. “He was trampled to death by an elephant on one of his trips to Africa.”

“Wow,” John said, eyebrows raised. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’m not,” Castiel replied, shrugging. “It’s no less than he deserved. Hunting for food is one thing, but I could never support hunting for sport. A man has a gun, and a supposedly superior intellect. There’s nothing sporting about it.” He gave a small smile. “Besides, elephants are my favorite animals, aside from bees.”

“That’s because you’ve never seen My Girl,” muttered Dean.

“I have seen My Girl,” Castiel replied, giving Dean a dry look. “It’s only a movie.”

“I’ll remember that the next time you’re tearing up over Titanic,” Dean shot back. “Instead of trying to hand you a Kleenex, I’ll just say man up Cas, it’s only a movie.”

“In his defense,” John cut in. “Titanic is actually pretty damn sad. All those people, frozen and drowned.” He shook his head. “Tragic. Although, at least their ship went down in cold water. There’s no telling how bad it could’ve gone if they were closer to the equator.”

“Here we go,” Dean mumbled, glancing at Sam.

Sam snickered and shook his head.

“You ever heard about the USS Indianapolis?” John asked, turning to Castiel.

Castiel raised his eyebrows. “I can’t say that I have. What is it?”

“What it was,” John started, “was the greatest loss of human life at sea from a single ship.”

“It was sharks,” Dean mimed silently in the background, wordlessly following along with his dad’s speech.

“It was sharks,” John continued. 

Dean rolled his eyes and quietly backed out of the kitchen. Sam followed his brother, having already heard the tragedy of the USS Indianapolis more times than he could count.

“That damn ship is the reason why I never got to go to the beach until I moved to California,” Dean muttered. “You’d think the man expects the sharks to grow legs and walk up on the sand. Maybe that’s the real reason he didn’t want either of us to join the military. He was afraid we’d get eaten by sharks.”

“Did you say anything to him about graduate school?” Sam asked.

“Not yet,” Dean admitted. “I’m still trying to work out the best way to tell him that won’t get me disowned.” He sighed. “I just don’t know if I can put up with two more years of school. I should be out in the real world, making money and learning to support myself.”

“It’s only two years,” Sam defended. “The real world will still be there when you get out...” He gave his brother a cautious look before adding, “and so will Lisa.”

Dean stared at Sam for a long moment. “Thanks,” he said finally, once he realized that his brother wasn’t making fun of him, but had correctly recognized one of his greatest fears. “I actually kind of needed to hear that.”

“No problem,” Sam replied. 

“And I’m sorry for drinking all of your orange juice this morning,” Dean said. “Although if I hadn’t, we wouldn’t have found out about the turkey in time so I take it back. Sorry not sorry.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Kiss my ass.”

“There’s only one thing I kiss with these lips,” Dean retorted. “Many things actually, but they’re all on the same woman.” He glanced at his watch. “Speaking of which, I think I’ll go surprise her at work. After that scene at the grocery store I could use a little tenderness.”

 

After Dean left, Sam went up to his room. He felt slightly guilty about leaving Cas with his dad and his bottomless cache of war stories, but he figured that Cas was fully capable of gracefully extracting himself from the situation if things got to be too much. Several hours passed, during which Sam exchanged text messages with Charlie, trying to decipher the nature of Cas’ interactions with him. He gave up in frustration when she kept replying with increasingly crude innuendos for various sex acts and put his phone back in his pocket, no closer to a definitive answer than he had been when he started. 

Sam looked up at the knocking at his open door frame. Although he wasn’t the least bit surprised to see Castiel standing there, it still didn’t keep his heart from beating faster. “You finally managed to escape, huh?” He gave a short laugh. “Sorry about abandoning you, but I couldn’t sit through that story again.”

Castiel laughed. “I actually found your father’s story rather entertaining.”

“I did too,” Sam replied. “The first couple times I heard it. You can’t so much as mention the ocean in this house, without hearing about the USS Indianapolis.” He sat up. “How did you escape, anyway?”

“I didn’t,” Castiel answered. “Once your father settled the turkey in the brine, he left. He said he was heading into work and staying overnight. Something about giving all the employees the day off tomorrow to be with their families.” He leaned against the doorframe. “Your father seems like a really good man.”

“He is,” Sam agreed. “He works hard, so that we won’t have to. I appreciate it, and I know Mom does, but Dean would rather have more time with him.”

“Yeah, I kind of sensed that,” Castiel admitted. “Well he’s not going to get it, with all the time he’s spending with his girlfriend.” He shrugged. “I suppose it’s a matter of priorities.” He stared patiently at Sam.

“Right,” Sam said after a few moments of awkward silence. _What now? Oh, he’s probably here for the rest of his money from the store._ “Uh, I guess you want your change. Sorry, I forgot all about it.” He reached for his wallet on his nightstand. 

“Keep it, please. I’ve already forgotten about it,” Castiel insisted, waving a hand. “Actually,” he said, walking into the room. “I was wondering what you have planned for the evening?”

“Nothing,” Sam replied, stunned. _He wants to hang out again?_ “Why, what did you have planned?”

“That depends on you,” Castiel answered, raising an eyebrow. “Would you like to play Twister again?”

“No,” Sam said immediately, his blood racing. _I barely made it out alive the last time._ “No way.”

“Oh,” Castiel said, taken aback. “Alright then. I’ll go read one of my books.” He took a step back. “I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” Sam insisted, getting down from his bed. “I just don’t think my back can handle another round of Twister. You’re too good at it.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “We could do something else.”

“Like what?” Castiel asked, stepping forward again.

Sam struggled to keep his mind from careening into the gutter, fairly certain Cas would smack his head off his neck if he suggested the first thing that came naturally to his mind. “You want to watch a movie? We have Netflix.” He cringed inwardly, hoping that Cas wouldn’t make the assumption that he was working towards Netflix and chill. _Why would he assume that? He doesn’t even know that I’m into him._

Castiel considered for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. That sounds fine.”

“Okay,” Sam said, relieved. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Castiel nodded, and walked back out into the hallway.

Sam pulled his phone out again.

S:-Gtg  
S:-Goin 2 watch movie w him  
C:-netflix n chll  
C:-smooth

Sam rolled his eyes and stuffed his phone back in his pocket. He left his room and went downstairs into the living room. Castiel was already sitting on the sofa with the remote control in his hand.

Castiel looked up as Sam approached, his brows furrowed. “It doesn’t seem to be working.”

“What?” Sam asked. “Let me see.” He took the remote and attempted to open the Netflix account. _Password not recognized. What the hell?_ He tried again. _Dude, seriously?_ He scowled, realization setting in. “Fuck,” he muttered.

“What’s wrong?” Castiel asked.

“Someone changed the password,” Sam answered, his expression dark. “I’m pretty sure it was Dean.”

“Oh,” Castiel said. “Well, I suppose that’s that.”

“No… Just wait here,” Sam said. “I’ll be right back.” He took his phone out of his pocket and walked down the hall, not wanting Cas to overhear the insults he was planning to unleash on his brother for this fresh injustice. He dialed Dean’s number and waited. “You’d better answer, you jerk,” he grumbled. 

Dean picked up on the fifth ring. “You’d better be sick, hurt, or dying—”

“What’s the Netflix password?” Sam demanded.

“Huh?”

“The Netflix password,” Sam repeated. “I know you changed it.”

“Dude, you’re just now figuring that out? I changed that shit on Monday. Man, are you sure you’re supposed to be the smart one?”

Sam rolled his eyes. _No wonder he forgot to take out the damn turkey. He was too busy setting up stupid pranks._ “What. Is. The. Net—”

“Netflix password, yeah. I heard you the first time.” Dean snickered. “Guess.”

“What?” Sam asked, incredulous.

“You heard me. Guess,” Dean repeated.

Sam groaned, his already thin patience evaporating into nothingness. _Is he fucking serious right now?!_ “Come on Dean, I don’t have time for this shit!”

“Oh, but I do?” Dean shot back, clearly amused. “You call me for this crap, when you know damn well I’m with Lisa, and you think your time is somehow more valuable than mine? What was it you said to me earlier? Let me think… Oh yeah. Kiss my ass.”

Sam sighed, trying desperately not to denigrate into a profanity-laden tirade that would only result in him being hung up on. “Could you just quit messing around and tell me? Cas wants to watch a movie.”

“So it’s what Cas wants now, huh? That close already?” Dean snickered. “Okay fine. Since it’s what Cas wants.” He cleared his throat. “Have you tried bofa?”

“Bofa? What the hell are you talking about?” Sam snapped. “That’s not even long enough to be the pass…” He groaned again and pressed a hand to his forehead, as the meaning of what Dean had said sunk in. “You’re a real jerk, you know that?”

Dean laughed. “I knew you’d figure it out eventually. Enjoy the movie. And don’t call me again.”

Sam rolled his eyes as he hung up the phone. Even without being there, Dean still knew how to make his presence felt. He sighed and walked back over to the couch.

Castiel was watching Sam, waiting to hear what he’d learned. “Did he change the password?” 

“Yes,” Sam mumbled. “Pass me the remote, please.”

Castiel handed the remote to Sam. “What was it?”

Sam took a breath. “…Deez nuts.” He sat down.

“Of course,” Castiel said, nodding. “That’s what he changed our wifi password to within a day of moving in. I tried changing it, but he just kept changing it back, so finally I gave up.” He shook his head. “He also renamed our router to FBI Surveillance Van. Your brother does enjoy his practical jokes.”

“Well, he’s the only one,” Sam replied, entering the new password. He sighed with relief when the account opened. “Finally.” He handed the remote back to Cas. “You’re the guest, so you pick.”

Castiel studied the screen. “Any preferences?”

Sam shook his head. “Nope. Just nothing sappy.”

“Fair enough,” Castiel replied. He scrolled through the selection of movies, moving onto each category in turn.

Sam watched, cringing inwardly when Cas paused briefly over Titanic. _Dear God, please no._ He liked Cas a lot, but he wasn’t sure if he liked him enough to sit through a three-hour sob fest from the nineties. He relaxed when Cas seemed to think better of it and resumed scrolling.

“Oh, they have Mean Girls,” Castiel announced, his eyes lighting up. He turned to Sam, looking somewhat sheepish. “Would that be alright?”

Sam shrugged. “I guess. I’ve never seen it.”

“What? How is that possible?” Castiel asked, his brows furrowed. “Mean Girls is a iconic piece of pop culture cinema.”

“Yeah maybe,” Sam agreed, shrugging again. “It’s also old. It came out like ten years ago.”

“Thirteen years,” Castiel corrected. “And I know. I was there.”

“You were where?” Sam asked, confused.

“At the New York premiere,” Castiel replied. “I was there. I saw them walk the red carpet.”

“Bullshit,” Sam laughed. “Now you’re just messing with me. There’s no way.”

Castiel raised his eyebrow as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone. After a few minutes of wordless scrolling, he turned his screen towards Sam. “Here.”

Sam accepted the phone and glanced down at the screen. It was a picture taken at night in front of a movie theatre entrance. He could see a girl who appeared to be Amanda Seyfried standing off to one side in the background, posing for photographers. Behind the ropes, waiting in line amongst the other attendees was a child with the same exact features as the young man sitting next to him. “Wow,” he said, blinking. _That’s definitely Cas._ “How old were you?”

“Seven,” Castiel replied. “And I was obsessed with Lindsay Lohan. My brother Gabriel took pity on me and took me to see the movie.” He chuckled. “In retrospect, probably not the most appropriate film for a child of seven, but that’s Gabriel. He never lets the opinions of others affect him in any way.”

“Is he your favorite?” Sam asked. “Out of your brothers?”

Castiel considered. “If by favorite, you mean the only member of my family with which I am on cordial terms with, then yes.” He sighed. “Unfortunately he doesn’t take anything seriously, but that’s just his way.”

“Gotcha,” Sam replied. His thumb slipped on the glass, and the images on the phone screen began to scroll rapidly, pictures blurring together.

Castiel quickly reached over and plucked his phone from Sam’s hand. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Sam laughed. “Why not?” he joked. “You got a bunch of your dick pics in there or something?”

Castiel cleared his throat and put his phone away, averting his eyes.

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. _Damn, I should’ve been more discreet. Might’ve learned something new._ “Really?”

“I never said they were mine,” Castiel murmured, still not looking at Sam.

“Oh,” Sam said, his eyebrows raising even higher. He decided he would definitely have to run this information by Charlie, even though he was about ninety percent sure her response would be to tell him to send Cas a suggestive pic of his own. _I don’t even have his number. I guess I could air drop it…_

“Can we please watch Mean Girls now?” Castiel asked, still looking anywhere else but at Sam.

“Sure thing,” Sam replied, hoping to ease the tension. “Go for it.” He watched as Castiel settled comfortably back into the couch and clicked on the movie. 

Sam had to admit that although he probably wouldn’t watch it again, the movie wasn’t that bad. Even with the significant amount of time he spent sneaking glances at Cas, he was able to follow along with the plot. He even found himself laughing at some of the more outrageous scenes. He decided the story was somewhat predictable, but every time he looked over at Cas he seemed so happy that he resolved to keep his criticisms to himself. By the time the ending credits began to roll, Sam decided that it was time well spent, even if he still didn’t see what all the hype was about. 

Castiel turned to Sam, clearly dying to hear his opinion. “So what did you think?”

“I get it,” Sam replied after a few moments.

Castiel nodded approvingly. “You get why it’s a cultural icon?”

“No,” Sam answered. “I mean, I get all the quotes I’m always hearing. Like ‘you can’t sit with us,’ or ‘she doesn’t even go here.’” He shook his head. “Now I finally understand what the hell Charlie is talking about.”

“Ah,” Castiel said. He gave Sam a sideways glance. “Are you and Charlie dating?”

Sam shook his head. “Definitely not. Charlie’s a lesbian. She has no interest in me whatsoever.”

“Oh,” Castiel replied. “My mistake.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Sam continued, trying to decide if now was the time to tell Cas about his crush on him. “I’ve actually never had a girlfriend.” _I have however had a boyfriend. Too bold? Not bold enough? Crap…_

“I don’t see why not,” Castiel replied, apparently not picking up on Sam’s unspoken truth. “You’re very attractive, if you don’t mind my saying so,” he added quietly.

 _Why the hell would I mind?_ Sam tried not to show how affected he was by the compliment. “Well thanks, but you never went to school with my brother. That little scene in the grocery store was nothing compared to it. He had girls chasing him left and right. As long as Dean was there, I was invisible.”

Castiel gave a low laugh. “I went to an all-boys school for the entirety of my education, so I can’t really relate.” He gave Sam an appraising look. “If I might make a suggestion, a little confidence goes a long way. Try it, and I think you will be pleased with the results.”

Sam ran a hand through his hair, striving to keep from blushing. “I’ll uh, keep that in mind.” He gave Cas a sideways glance. “What was it like going to an all-boys school?”

Castiel let out another low laugh. “I’ll just say that it was interesting, and leave it at that. Our parents insisted on it for all of us.” He gave a wry smile. “They were worried that one of us might knock up some aspiring trophy wife if we went to a co-ed school. They needn’t have bothered in my case, but why buck tradition?” He shrugged. “It was fine. I made lots of friends and I learned a great deal.”

As much as Sam wanted to sit for a while with the mental image of Cas making friends and learning a great deal, he could feel himself starting to physically respond for what felt like the millionth time that day. _Jesus…_ He quickly gestured towards the television. “You want to watch another one?”

“Sure,” Castiel replied. He offered the remote. “Would you like to choose?”

Sam shook his head. “No. Like I said, you’re the guest. You pick.” He sighed. “Just please, not Titanic. I hate that movie so much. I hate everything about it, especially since Myth Busters proved that they both could’ve fit on the damn door.”

“It’s called artistic license,” Castiel defended. “But you’re right. It’s getting too late for a three-hour movie anyway. I’ll pick something not quite so lengthy.” He scrolled through the library, his eyes fixed on the screen.

Sam watched Cas, his pulse racing. _Why didn’t I tell him? I had the perfect chance and I just bitched out. This is not going well._

Castiel turned to look at Sam, his expression coy. “How do you feel about horror movies?”

Sam smirked. _Now that I can handle._ “Bring it on. I don’t scare easy.”

“I do,” Castiel admitted. “But I’ve been dying to see this one, and I didn’t want to watch it alone.”

Sam glanced at the screen. _Uh oh._ He had already seen The Autopsy of Jane Doe. _If Cas scares easy, that movie will destroy him. Then again, if he needs someone to hide behind…_ “If you’re sure, then I’m game,” Sam replied amicably. “Kind of a fitting choice, since you’re pre-med. I don’t think the gore will be a problem for you.”

“You’ve already seen it?” Castiel asked, looking somewhat disappointed.

“Yeah,” Sam admitted. “But you’d already seen Mean Girls.” He shrugged. “It’s a good movie. I wouldn’t mind watching it again.” He sighed, deciding that honesty was probably the best policy. “It’s probably going to mess with your ability to sleep, though. It’s actually pretty damn scary.”

“Sold,” Castiel said, clicking on the title.

Sam settled comfortably into the sofa again and returned his attention to the screen. He expected that at some point Cas would either scoot closer to him or abandon the movie altogether if he really was the type to scare easily. When nothing of the sort happened, Sam snuck a glance at Cas, wondering if he had fallen asleep or was covering his face. Instead he was watching the screen, completely engrossed in the film. _I guess he must be really into it. Probably has something to do with him being pre-med._ Sam shrugged and turned back to the television.

Once the end credits began to roll, Sam snuck another glance at Castiel and saw that he was unchanged.

“Interesting,” Castiel remarked.

Sam’s eyebrows went up. _Interesting? That movie should’ve scared the crap out of him._ “You didn’t think it was scary?”

“Not particularly,” Castiel replied, shaking his head. “It was too unrealistic.”

“It’s a horror movie,” Sam said. “They’re usually unrealistic. That’s what makes them so scary. It’s the sort of crazy crap that never happens in real life.” He waved a hand. “You know, possessed dolls, ghosts, maniacs in hockey masks chasing people with chainsaws.”

“Perhaps,” Castiel conceded. “It was very well directed and well acted. The cinematography was highly impressive.” He shrugged. “I enjoyed it as a film, I just wasn’t frightened by it.”

Sam laughed and shook his head. _So much for him scaring easy._ “You’re a tough one to figure out.”

“Oh?” Castiel asked, his eyebrow raised. He turned fully to face Sam, drawing both of his legs up onto the sofa. “Been trying to figure me out, have you?” he teased.

Sam somehow managed to keep from blushing. “A little, yeah.”

Castiel leaned his chin on his palm and looked up at Sam, his eyes challenging. “Well then, ask away. I’m an open book. Anything you wish to know about me, I will tell you.”

Sam could feel the words bouncing around in his brain, striving to get out, drawn by the pull of those mesmerizing blue eyes. _You're definitely gay, right? Have you been flirting with me? You wanna take this upstairs?_ He swallowed as he looked Cas over, his blood rushing in his veins. _Or we could just do it right here._ Summoning a calm that he didn’t even know he possessed, he brought forth a genuine yawn instead. “Maybe some other time. I’m gonna call it a night.”

“Alright,” Castiel replied, the briefest flicker of disappointment passing over his face. “It is rather late. See you in the morning for breakfast?”

“Sure,” Sam agreed, stretching as he rose to his feet. “I’ll even set my alarm, so you don’t have to come get me this time.” He yawned again and gestured towards the screen. “You can keep watching, if you want.”

Castiel shook his head and turned the television off. “No, I think I’ll follow your example.” He stood up. “Goodnight Sam.”

“Goodnight Cas,” Sam replied. He watched Castiel head down the hall to the guest room, wishing that he could just work up the nerve to express his thoughts. Shaking his head, he went upstairs. _What was it Dean said earlier? Oh right… Fuck my life._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the turkey incident (leaving it beside the freezer instead of inside the freezer) actually happened in my house one year. I swear it wasn't me that left it out! Mean Girls is the property of Paramount. The Autopsy of Jane Doe is the property of IFC Midnight (and it actually is scary as hell). Thank you for reading!


	4. Thursday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the answer to Sam's most pressing question leaves him with even more questions, he tries to put his own interests aside to remember the reason they're all together in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little bit of angst in this chapter. I know, I know! But what crush doesn't cause a little pain? That's why they call it a crush, right?
> 
> Any and all feedback (whether kudos or reviews) is greatly appreciated!

For perhaps the first time since its purchase, Sam did not press the snooze button on his alarm clock. On any other day he would’ve slapped it repeatedly without mercy and stayed in bed, especially since it was Thanksgiving and there was definitely no school. But he had told Cas that he would see him at breakfast, and he wasn’t about to miss out on the opportunity to spend time with him, no matter how the comfort of his bed beckoned. He supposed he could just lie back and wait for Cas to come to him again, but after yesterday he had his doubts about the likelihood of that little scenario.

Sam hadn’t slept particularly well, spending plenty of time tossing and turning as he replayed his conversation with Cas over in his mind. There had been so many chances, so many openings for him to let Cas know how he felt about him, but he just couldn’t get the words out. He knew that he was running out of time, since Cas was leaving on Sunday with Dean. And even though he’d decided that it probably wasn’t wise to make a move on his brother’s roommate, it also didn’t seem right to just let him go back to California without saying anything at all. _What do I even say?_ He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, stretching. _Hey Cas, I know you’re only in town for a couple more days, but it would mean a lot to me if you and I could hook up._

He dressed quickly, still mulling over possible phrasing. _Should I really say hook up? Nah, that’s too casual._ He snorted, recalling a line that Charlie had jokingly suggested. _U want sum fuk? Yeah, because that won’t get me punched in the face._ He shook his head. Whatever Cas may be, Sam was pretty sure that he wasn’t the type to respond well to lewd overtures. _Then again, he does apparently have a phone full of dick pics._ He sighed and opened the door to his room.

Sam walked downstairs slowly, not wanting to seem overly eager. He strolled calmly into the kitchen as though it were perfectly normal for him to wake up early for no reason, even though he could’ve certainly used a few more hours sleep.

“Well good morning,” Mary said from her seat at the breakfast nook, clearly not expecting to see her youngest son at this hour.

“Morning,” Sam yawned, glancing around the otherwise empty kitchen. _Where’s Cas?_

“You’re up awfully early for a non-school day,” Mary remarked, her eyebrows raised. “I have to say, I’m impressed. Although dinner won’t be ready for quite a while yet.”

“I know,” Sam replied. “I got up for breakfast.”

“Oh,” Mary said. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint, but I didn’t cook breakfast this morning. Just some coffee and toast.” She gestured towards the countertop. “As you can see, I’ve had my hands full.”

Sam finally took in the assortment of cookware and mixing bowls lined up around the kitchen. A large pot had been placed on every available stove burner. Each countertop held an array of kitchen gadgets, waiting to be put to use. A pastry mat took up most of the space on the kitchen table, with the rolling pin resting nearby. He warily eyed his mom’s gigantic Kitchen Aid mixer, a surprisingly well-received birthday gift from his dad, and knew that his mom surely meant business. “I’ll say. You look like you’re about to put in some serious work.”

“Yep,” Mary agreed. “It didn’t make sense to bother with breakfast since I’m the only one up, and there’s so much still to do.”

Sam felt a pang of guilt. If there was one thing for certain in their house around the holidays, it was that their mom would cook a fantastic meal, while he and Dean contributed practically nothing. True, they had supplied the main course this time, although that was more a testament to Castiel’s generosity than to any actual planning on their part. Sam turned and looked again at the cookware lining the countertops. _Well, since I’m already up._ “You want some help?”

Mary’s eyebrows raised again. “Really?”

Sam nodded. “Dad said something yesterday that kind of stuck with me, about me and Dean not knowing anything about cooking. If we had known that you could thaw a turkey in cold water, we might’ve saved…” He trailed off, remembering that they agreed not to disclose the truth about how the turkey was obtained. “Some trouble,” he finished.

Mary smiled. “Well, of course Sam. I’d certainly appreciate it. I even have a spare apron somewhere, if you want one.”

“No,” Sam said quickly. He didn’t even want to think of what Dean would say if he walked in and saw him wearing one of their mom’s aprons, and although he knew Cas wouldn’t tease him, he still didn’t want him seeing that either. 

“Alright,” Mary said. “Well, go ahead and help yourself to some of your awful toaster strudel, and then we’ll get to work.”

Sam went over to the freezer and grabbed his usual breakfast. “Where is everybody anyway?”

“Your dad is down at the shop,” Mary replied, finishing the last of her coffee. “He’ll be home in the afternoon. Dean didn’t come back last night, so I assume he’s still at Lisa’s.” She gave Sam a wry smile. “And Castiel is asleep.”

Sam blinked. _So now he’s sleeping in?_ “Oh.”

“You know, I am really glad that Dean invited him,” Mary remarked. “He is so nice. I hope that the two of them remain friends after Dean graduates. He could use someone mature and sensible in his life.”

Sam barely managed to keep from rolling his eyes. _If Lisa can’t keep his ass in check, then honestly what’s the point?_ He dropped his pastries in the toaster and waited.

Once Sam had finished his quick breakfast, he set to work helping his mom with the preparations for dinner. Mary sensed his uncertainty and started him off with the simple task of peeling potatoes, which he had already done before. After he finished with that, she moved him on to more prep work, washing and chopping all of the vegetables, before sorting them into individual bowls. Sam initially balked when Mary suggested that he try his hand at sautéing some of the ingredients, but he grudgingly agreed once she assured him that even if he messed up, nothing would be ruined beyond saving. When he did not mess up, but in fact proved adept at the task, Mary gradually enlisted him in more complex endeavors. 

“Are you still keeping an eye on the front door?” Sam asked, rolling out the pie crust.

Mary laughed, scooping heaps of freshly prepared stuffing into the turkey. “Yes, as you have requested for the hundredth time. Why, are you expecting company?”

Sam sighed and shook his head. “If Dean saw me now, he’d never let me hear the end of it. He’d probably post it online. Knowing my luck, it’d go viral.” He set the rolling pin aside and carefully lifted the dough before laying it gently into the pie pan. “Everyone at school would see it before the year is out.”

“Would that be so bad?” Mary asked. “I’ll let you in on a secret,” she said, wrestling the turkey into an oven bag. She wiped her hands on a towel and turned around. “Most girls like boys that can cook.” 

“Oh yeah?” Sam replied drily. “Explain Dean.”

Mary laughed again. “Honey, I can’t explain Dean.” She shook her head and sighed. “What can I say? I guess it’s just that Winchester charm. John certainly had it.”

“Must’ve skipped me then,” Sam muttered, scraping pie filling into the pan with a rubber spatula.

“Oh Sam,” Mary said, her eyes warm. “It most certainly did not skip you. You have every bit as much of that Winchester charm. The only difference is that Dean is a lot more outgoing and approachable. You’re more thoughtful and reserved, and that can be very intimidating to a teenage girl who isn’t sure whether you like her or not.”

“Huh,” Sam said, taken aback. “I guess I hadn’t considered that.”

“Well, that’s because I’m a mom,” Mary replied lightly. “I know these things.” She gestured towards the turkey. “You want to trade places? You put that monster in the oven, and I’ll finish up here.”

Sam moved over to the oven, and finished securing the oven bag, before carefully loading the turkey into its pan and lowering them both into the oven. He turned back around to see his mom fastening lids onto each of the pie plates before stacking them carefully into a bag. “Where are you taking them?”

“To Bobby and Ellen’s,” Mary replied. “Bobby’s going to fry their turkey, so they offered to let me use one of their double ovens to cook the pies and the dinner rolls.”

“Why don’t you just cook them here once the turkey is done?” Sam asked, raising his eyebrows.

Mary laughed. “Sam, that turkey isn’t going to be done anytime soon. It needs to cook for five hours, at least.”

“Five hours?” Sam asked, incredulous. “It never took that long to cook before.”

“Well that’s because the turkeys that we usually buy are about half that size,” Mary explained. She placed the trays of dinner rolls into another bag.

Sam stared wistfully at the softly glowing oven. _Serves us right._ “So what time is dinner?”

Mary glanced at the clock, considering. “Oh, I would say about five. Six at the latest.”

 _Jeez. That’s a lot of time to kill._ Sam sat down at the breakfast nook with a sigh. “Okay.”

“You could come with me,” Mary offered, taking off her apron and folding it neatly. “Jo will be there. I’m sure she’d be happy to have someone her own age to talk to, while us old people reminisce in the kitchen.”

Not for the first time, Sam felt that he could save himself and his family a lot of well-meaning awkwardness if he just came clean already about his sexual identity. He knew that his mom would accept him no matter what, of that he had no doubts. And he suspected that even if his dad had some initial reservations about it, that he wouldn’t outright reject him. Even Dean would get on board after undoubtedly teasing the living hell out of him. But Sam didn’t want to complicate his last year of living at home. He was this close to being on his own, and it was better to wait until he was free of this town and its expectations before revealing that part of himself to too many people.

“No thanks,” Sam replied quickly. “But you can tell her I said hey,” he added as an afterthought. 

Mary laughed and shook her head. “Prom season right around the corner, and he says, tell her I said hey.” She sighed and looked around at all of the dishes. “Well, all that’s left is to clean up, and then I’ll be on my merry way.”

“No, I got it,” Sam assured her, waving her away from the sink. “Go ahead. I’ll take care of it.”

Mary smiled. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you today, but whatever it is, I’m glad. If I knew that you wouldn’t have a fit, I’d kiss you on the cheek right now.”

Sam rolled his eyes and leaned down so that his mom could reach him. “You get one. But only because it’s a holiday.”

Mary laughed and gave her son a quick peck on the side of his face. “Fair enough. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” She gathered up her bags and left.

Sam turned back to the army of dishes. _Well, it’s not like I have anything better to do._ He filled one side of the sink with hot sudsy water and went to work. He started cleaning the chopping boards, his mind going peacefully blank as he set his attention to the task. Even though the breakfast thing with Cas hadn’t worked out, he was still glad that he had gotten up early. It was nice having the house so quiet without the pressure of needing to rush anywhere or do anything, and he knew that this was one of those things that he would miss once he left for college. He yawned and glanced at the clock over the stove. _Still not gonna make a habit of it._

Sam didn’t realize that Castiel had entered the kitchen until he happened to glance back at the kitchen table to see if he’d missed a dish and saw Cas sitting there. _Jesus! We’re gonna have to put a bell on him._ He noted with some interest that for the first time Cas actually looked less than completely put together. His dark hair was beautifully messy as he sat there blinking, his clothes rumpled from sleep. Sam thought he had never looked better.

“Good morning,” Castiel said, stifling a yawn. As he stretched lazily, his t-shirt rose slightly, revealing a few scant inches of skin on his lower abdomen.

Sam quickly turned back to the sink. _Nope. I refuse to start another day like this._ “Morning,” he replied, his voice perfectly calm. _What the heck happened? He looks like he stayed out all night like Dean._ He drew in a breath as he heard the approach of bare footsteps just before Cas leaned against the counter next to him.

“So,” Castiel sighed, resting his forearms on the countertop and gazing up at Sam from beneath half-lowered lids. “It would appear that I have missed breakfast. Please forgive me.”

“You didn’t,” Sam assured him, diligently scrubbing at a large mixing bowl. “There wasn’t any. Mom didn’t cook.” He shook his head. “I mean, she cooked, just not breakfast.” He waved a soapy hand around. “She just worked on getting everything ready for dinner tonight.”

“Ah,” said Castiel, nodding. “I should’ve guessed as much.”

“She just left a while ago,” Sam continued, moving on to the next dish. “She went over to the Singers. They’re family friends,” he explained, “to use their oven, since the turkey is going to take a while to cook.”

Castiel looked Sam over. “And you stayed behind to take care of the clean-up? That’s admirable.”

“Actually,” Sam started, his skin reddening slightly. “I, uh, also helped with the preparation. You know, since I was already up.” He rinsed the bowl and set it to the side. “Nothing too major. Just chopping, peeling, and stuff like that.” Reaching into the soapy water, he fished out the mixer blades and began scrubbing them. “No big deal.”

Castiel continued to watch Sam, still leaning against the counter. “Still impressive, all things considered. You know, women like a man who can cook.”

“I’ve heard,” Sam replied. _What, are you and mom in this together?_ “But that’s not why I did it. I mean, every year Mom really goes all out for us, and Dean and I basically goof around until everything is done. At some point, you have to pitch in, you know.” He shrugged. “So, uh, thanks for giving me the inspiration to get my ass up this morning.”

Castiel chuckled, the low sound sending warmth throughout Sam’s entire body. “Glad I could be of service.”

“If you’re hungry, you can help yourself to some of my toaster strudel,” Sam offered, trying to give Cas a reason to put a little distance between them.

“What time is dinner?” Castiel asked.

Sam shot another glance at the oven clock. “Five, I think. Maybe six.”

Castiel shook his head. “I’ll wait.” He chuckled again. “No offense to you, of course. But I’m not brave enough to eat those sugar bombs.”

Sam shrugged. “No offense taken.” He dared a glance at Cas, and saw that he was still watching him with the same tranquil expression. It was somehow much worse than his usual intense gaze, because this made it that much easier for Sam to envision him in his bed. “So, decided to sleep in, huh?” he asked, quickly turning his attention back to the dishes.

Castiel ran a hand through his disheveled hair, giving it some semblance of order. “Unintentionally. I didn’t get much sleep last night, to be honest.”

Sam’s brows furrowed. “Why not?” _Don’t tell me he was up all night thinking about our conversation too._

Castiel gave Sam a wry look. “My second Netflix selection was somewhat more ill-advised than I had anticipated.”

A slow grin spread across Sam’s face, as he turned back to Cas. “Wait, are you serious? The horror movie that we watched kept you awake?” He laughed. _I knew it!_ “I thought you said that sort of stuff didn’t scare you. That it was too unrealistic.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “And you actually believed me? Sam, that movie scared the hell out of me. I was petrified. I couldn’t sleep at all.” He shuddered. “Every time I closed my eyes, I kept expecting one of those corpses to appear at the foot of my bed. After a while, I would swear that I could hear them, shuffling down the hallway towards my room.” He shook his head. “Sleeping was simply not an option.”

“Wow,” Sam said, turning back to the sink. He started on the last of the measuring cups. “So what did you do?”

Castiel chuckled and shook his head again. “I retreated into the living room, and watched Titanic. When the sun came up, I went back to my room, and then I was finally able to sleep for a bit.”

 _Damn. Poor Cas._ Sam finished the dishes and pulled the stopper from the sink. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, drying his hands on a towel. He glanced at Cas, who had finally moved over to the breakfast nook. “I would’ve stayed up with you, if I had known.”

“I couldn’t tell you that,” Castiel replied, waving a hand. “I didn’t want you to think that I was uncool, or whatever the term is that you high school students use.”

“I think you’re the coolest person I know,” Sam confessed.

“Now that is unfortunate,” Castiel said, a tiny smile forming on his lips. “You should have Dean bring you out to LA sometime. You could stay at my condo. I have a convertible sleeper sofa. It’s never even been used.”

“Thanks,” Sam said, surprised. “That would be great actually. I’ll think about it.” 

“You do that,” Castiel suggested, with a small smile. “So what are your plans for today, now that you’ve finished your contribution to our evening meal?”

Sam froze, halfway towards the hallway. “Right…” He scrambled his brain, trying to think of a good idea. “Um…” _Just say something!_ “You wanna… watch the game?”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “The football game?” he asked drily.

Sam gave what he hoped was a sufficiently convincing nod. “Yeah, that one.”

Castiel stared at Sam for a long moment before breaking out another tiny smile. “Now Sam, I’m fairly certain you realize by now that I’m gay. Football isn’t exactly an interest of mine.”

Finally Sam had a definitive answer to the question that had been dominating his thoughts since the first time he had ever laid eyes on his brother’s roommate. In hindsight, it seemed so obvious, he felt foolish for not having realized it on his own without needing Cas to confirm it. He should’ve felt relieved, but instead his anxiety seemed to multiply, having been fed new fuel for the fire that was burning him up inside. _So am I,_ he wanted to shout. It was right there on the tip of his tongue, all he needed to do was open his mouth and speak the words he had been dying to say ever since this gorgeous man had showed up on his doorstep. Instead what came out was, “Does Dean know?”

Castiel blinked, clearly not expecting the question. “Of course. I was extremely clear about the fact in my roommate ad. I wanted to make sure that I didn’t end up sharing my condo with some homophobic bigot.”

“Oh,” Sam said quietly. _Now I feel even more stupid._

Castiel didn’t miss Sam’s reaction. “You seem surprised.” He leaned his head to the side. “Why is that?”

Sam shrugged, not entirely sure how much of what he said would make its way back to Dean eventually. “Let’s just say, my brother isn’t exactly the most evolved person in the world.”

“I think he might surprise you,” Castiel replied, giving Sam a sideways glance. He stood up. 

Sam swallowed nervously and stepped back. “Where are you going?”

Castiel raised an eyebrow again. “With you. To watch the game.”

“I thought you said it wasn’t interesting,” Sam protested.

“It’s not,” Castiel agreed, walking forward. “But I will join you, if you like.” He smiled. “I can certainly appreciate the company, if not the activity.”

“You don’t have to,” Sam insisted. 

Castiel simply stared at Sam, waiting patiently.

“Alright,” Sam relented. He walked out into the living room, mentally kicking himself. In truth, football wasn’t exactly one of his interests either, but he knew that his dad and Dean usually watched the Thanksgiving game every year, and he always sucked it up and joined them. With neither one of them at home, he should’ve been free and clear, but he’d somehow tripped and fallen into his own trap. 

“You don’t seem particularly enthusiastic about it yourself,” Castiel remarked, noticing Sam’s brooding facial expression.

“I’m just really looking forward to dinner,” Sam said, not entirely untruthfully. “I can’t wait to see how that turkey is going to turn out.” He sat down in the recliner, not trusting himself to share the sofa with Cas. “Thanks again for that.”

“It was the least I could do,” Castiel replied. “Your family has been wonderful. In a way, it makes me wish that my own family had been different in so many ways…” He shook his head. “Never mind that. Let’s watch the game.”

Sam turned on the television and flipped to the station that was showing the game. They both watched quietly for several minutes, and Sam found that it actually wasn’t a bad experience without his brother and his dad yelling at the screen every few seconds. A few stolen glances at Cas seemed to confirm that he didn’t mind it that much either.

“The defense seems to be confused about which team they’re actually playing for,” Castiel mused, after a particularly bad tackle. “Either that, or someone has been paid off. It’s like they’re not even trying to protect the quarterback outside of the pocket.” He shook his head. “They should check the defensive coordinator’s bank statements for mysterious wire transfers.”

Sam turned to stare at Cas.

“What?” Castiel asked, seeing Sam’s stunned expression. “I said football wasn’t an interest of mine, I never said I didn’t understand it. My brother Michael played for Syracuse,” he explained. “I sat through an obscene amount of home games before I was able to escape to the west coast. I am eternally grateful that he never went into a professional league, or I would probably have box seats in a stadium somewhere.”

“Oh,” Sam said. “Well, none of us played football, except for Dad when he was in high school. But Dean used to play baseball, and I play basketball.”

“I know,” Castiel replied. “I noticed your trophies yesterday. Highly impressive.”

“Thanks,” Sam said, trying not to glow with pride. “Did you ever play any sports?”

Castiel laughed as though he found the question especially hilarious. “Actually yes, I played many sports. Whether I was any good at them is another matter entirely.” He leaned his head to the side. “Although to be fair, I was a passable tennis player. I also did fairly well at fencing and gymnastics. Unfortunately, the only thing I was noticeably decent at was…” He let out a long-suffering sigh. “Figure skating. Talk about a cliché.” He shook his head ruefully. “Can you imagine?”

“I really can’t,” Sam admitted. “I’ve never been ice skating in my life. I mean, we do have a rink in town, but…” He trailed off with a grimace.

“Say no more,” Castiel cut in, holding up a hand. “Believe me, I understand.” He rolled his eyes. “My coach was very impressed with me. He was quite fond of telling me that I had the most powerful thighs he had ever seen.”

It took a Herculean effort for Sam to keep his eyes from dropping straight to Cas’ legs to see for himself. He just barely managed to maintain eye contact. “Really?” he ground out.

Castiel nodded. “Oh yes.” He shrugged and glanced away briefly. “Of course, whether that was actually true, or he was saying it simply because he wanted to fuck me, was anyone’s best guess.”

Sam’s mouth fell open.

“Don’t look so shocked,” Castiel laughed. “It happens more often than you think. One of my cousins actually eloped with her equestrian instructor.”

Sam closed his mouth and looked away, his heart pounding. _Now I know what Dean meant about what happens once Cas gets comfortable around someone._

“I didn’t let him, by the way,” Castiel added after a few moments. “I can practically see the wheels turning in your mind, wondering ‘did he or didn’t he.’”

“I’m glad,” Sam said with complete honesty. He knew that he had no right to even ask, given that Cas’ sex life was his none of his business, but the thought of some creep taking advantage of Cas disturbed him more than he ever thought was possible.

“It’s not like I was a saint,” Castiel amended. “I got around a bit back then, but the man was married, and besides that, he was old enough to be my father. I prefer to date within my own generation, thank you very much.”

Sam tried not to be obvious about the math he was doing in his head to determine whether or not he could be considered within Cas’ generation. The buzz of his phone in his pocket distracted him from his calculations. He slid his phone half-way out and glanced down at the screen.

C:-happy thanksgiving!!!  
C:-u stuff that bird yet???

Sam huffed out a breath and unlocked his screen, intending to quickly give Charlie a piece of his mind.

Castiel was faster. No sooner had Sam unlocked his phone than it was plucked unceremoniously from his hands. “Didn’t your mother teach you that it’s rude to text while you’re having a conversation with someone?” Castiel teased, holding the phone just out of reach.

Sam panicked. Before he had a chance to consider an alternate course of action, he pounced. In the next moment he was kneeling over his brother’s roommate on the sofa, his knees straddling Cas’ hips and both of his hands wrapped around Cas’ wrists, which Cas had instinctively drawn over his head. Sam stared down into wide blue eyes, only a few inches away from his own. _Oh fuck… What the hell have I done?_ He could hear the referee on television blowing a whistle, but it sounded as though it were coming from a thousand miles away. His own breathing seemed impossibly loud by contrast, his heart pounding in his chest. He realized with some amazement that he could feel Cas’ pulse in his wrists, racing just as fast as his own.

Castiel looked equally stunned as he stared up at Sam. He swallowed hard, a myriad of emotions passing over his face in an instant. “You’re… a lot faster than you look,” he said after several moments of silence. He tugged experimentally at his wrists, being careful not to drop Sam’s phone. “And very strong,” he added quietly, when Sam still failed to respond.

Sam simply stared down at his captive, his brain reeling. _What the hell do I do now?_ His mind knew that this was no way to treat a guest, and that the right thing to do would be to let Castiel go, apologize profusely, and lock himself in his room for the rest of the week. But his body was mesmerized by the solid warmth beneath him, and the slow rise and fall of Cas' chest as his pulse gradually slowed to normal, his eyes never once leaving Sam’s. _Did I think his eyes were just blue? I was wrong._ Sam felt that even if he had paid more attention in art class, he still wouldn’t have the words to describe the breathtakingly surreal color looking back at him. _How are you even real?_ At that moment, Sam knew that no amount of calm thoughts was going to prevent his interest from making itself painfully obvious, and from the way that Cas’ eyelids fluttered, accompanied by a sharp intake of breath from his parted lips, and the sound of a cellphone hitting the floor, Sam knew that his secret was definitely out.

Sam opened his mouth to say something, he had no idea what, and then he heard the click of the front door as it was unlocked. He released his grip on Castiel and launched himself back away from the sofa, landing halfway on and off of the recliner, his heart pounding madly. There was a soft thump as his ill-treated phone landed beside him, tossed by Castiel who was looking at him with an unreadable expression. Sam grabbed it and pretended to be fully engrossed in the screen as the front door opened and then closed.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” Dean said, walking into the living room. He glanced at the television in disbelief as he took off his coat. “I don’t fucking believe it. Cas, you’re actually watching football?” He turned to Sam. “How the hell did you manage to swing that? I can never get his ass to watch a game with me.”

Castiel shifted in his seat, decidedly not looking at either Sam or Dean. “Perhaps you should try asking nicely, instead of shouting ‘hey Cas, get your ass in here and watch the game’ down the hall.”

“Whatever you say,” Dean replied. He flopped down on the sofa next to Castiel and playfully slapped the back of his neck.

“Jesus!” Castiel exclaimed, cringing away from his roommate’s freezing palm. He shot Dean a glare. “You’re fucking rude, do you know that?”

“Oh, you know you love it,” Dean quipped. He elbowed his roommate lightly in the ribs. “Someone has to ruffle your perfect little feathers from time to time. Isn’t that why you keep me around?”

“I keep you around because you pay your rent on time,” Castiel shot back, standing up. “Otherwise I’d sell you to Satan for one corn chip.”

“Well damn,” Dean said, eyebrows raised. He put his hands up. “I guess someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” 

“I actually didn’t get much sleep,” Castiel admitted, his tone somewhat apologetic. “Excuse me.” He turned and walked down the hall towards the guest bedroom.

Dean watched him go before turning to Sam. “Happy Thanksgiving,” he said drily.

“I thought you were going spend the day at Lisa’s,” Sam replied, trying not to obviously stare down the hallway. _Should I go talk to him?_

“No,” Dean replied. “I just went to say hi to her family. Besides,” he said, grimacing. “Her mom can’t cook worth shit. I love Lisa, but I’ll never eat her mom’s cooking again unless I’m at gunpoint.”

“You’d better hope the apple fell pretty damn far from the tree then,” Sam muttered, his fingers digging into the recliner’s arm rests. 

“Oh it did,” Dean insisted. “Lisa’s skills are solid. Not as good as our mom yet, but she’ll get there.” He stood up. “I’m gonna grab a beer from the fridge. You want one?”

Sam opened his mouth in disbelief.

“Too late,” Dean said, walking off towards the kitchen.

Sam huffed and rolled his eyes. _Jerk._ He glanced anxiously towards the hallway, wondering if Cas was upset with him for not letting him up right away. _What was it that Dean had said on Monday? That Cas wasn’t a hugger? Maybe he doesn’t like to be touched._ Sam’s brows furrowed. _But he touched me at least twice yesterday so what the hell is going on?_

Sam was still debating whether or not to head down the hall when Castiel came walking back into the living room, fully dressed in jeans and a thick sweater. He noted with alarm that Cas was pulling on his coat. Sam jumped up from his spot on the recliner and followed Cas to the front door. “Where are you going?”

“For a walk,” Castiel answered as he fastened his coat, not looking at Sam. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back in time for dinner.” He reached for the doorknob.

Sam placed his own hand on the door, keeping it closed. “I’m so sorry,” he said in a rush. “The thing on the couch, it was just an accident. I didn’t mean to weird you out or anything.”

“You didn’t… weird me out,” Castiel sighed, looking at the floor. “Everything is fine. I just need to get some fresh air.”

“Cas,” Sam said, his voice low. “I’m sorry. Really. Please don’t be pissed at me.”

Castiel finally looked at Sam. “I’m not. Sam, you didn’t do anything wrong. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have…” he trailed off and glanced briefly downward before returning his gaze to Sam. “Taken your phone,” he finished. 

“It’s fine,” Sam insisted, his heart racing. “You don’t have to leave.”

“Like I said,” Castiel said, gesturing towards the door. “I just need some fresh air. That’s all.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Sam asked, even though he already knew the answer.

Castiel shook his head and gave Sam a tiny smile. “If I could survive Manhattan and then Los Angeles, I think I can handle myself in Lawrence.” 

Sam lowered his hand from the door. “Alright.” He took a few steps back, even more disheartened by the way that Castiel visibly relaxed once he moved out of his personal space. “I’ll see you at dinner then.”

“Of course,” Castiel replied, opening the door. He stepped out into the cold, closing the door quickly behind him.

Sam stood there staring dejectedly at the closed door. He could follow Cas, pleading his case the entire way around the block, but he doubted Cas would appreciate that type of gesture. He wasn’t even sure what to plead. _Sorry I held you down and got a boner? They don’t make a card for that._ He drifted aimlessly back in front of the TV, trying to figure out how he had managed to screw everything up. _I should’ve told him how I felt last night when I had the chance. I can’t even imagine what the hell he must be thinking right now._

“Where did Cas run off to?” Dean asked, walking into the living room with an open beer in his hand. 

“He went for a walk,” Sam replied, miraculously managing to keep any trace of bitterness out of his tone.

Dean shrugged and took a sip of beer. He sat down on the sofa in the space next to where Cas had been. “Welp. I guess he finally needed a break from us. This is probably the longest he’s spent with a group of people in a while.” He gestured at the television. “I’m betting that watching football was the final straw.”

Sam cringed inwardly. _Technically he’s not wrong._ He slumped back down into the recliner and half-heartedly tried to watch the game. “What is it like living with him?” he asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Dude, it’s awesome,” Dean said immediately, turning away from the screen. “It’s kind of like having a wife, except for the sex.”

Sam blinked repeatedly, his brain temporarily scrambled by Dean’s statement. “Wait, what?” _Are you fucking serious?! Is that what this is about?! The two of them are hooking up?!_ He urged himself not to make assumptions even as his hands itched to throttle his brother’s neck. _Lisa’s not enough for you, you gotta have him too?! You’re not even gay!_

“That didn’t come out right,” Dean realized, his skin reddening. He turned down the volume on the TV. “What I mean is, back when I was staying on campus, I was always having problems with my roommates. Either they were slobs, and I admit, I wasn’t the picture of cleanliness myself, which just made it worse. Or they were always taking my stuff without asking, or playing video games all day so I never got to watch TV, or the worst one…” Dean shuddered. “Having sex in my bed. Like who the fuck does that? I mean, come on! We have our own beds for a reason.” He rolled his eyes.

Sam grimaced, briefly distracted from thoughts of Cas by the knowledge that similar horrors might be in store for him in the future. _Maybe I can get a private room next year._ “That sounds pretty bad.”

“It was craptastic,” Dean agreed. “Anyway, sleeping in someone else’s wet spot was the last straw. I decked the clown, and the housing department actually took his side, and told me I had to find somewhere else to stay.” He took another swig of beer. “Luckily, I saw a roommate ad in the campus paper, and that’s how I met Cas.”

Sam nodded, trying to remain calm as his focus returned fully to Cas. “Okay, and that makes him like a wife, how?”

Dean shifted in his seat and looked genuinely uncomfortable. “I honestly don’t know if I should be telling you his personal business, because it’s not my place to say—”

“I know that he’s gay,” Sam cut in. “He already told me.”

Dean sighed with relief. “Oh thank God. Cas is my friend, and I really didn’t want to out him if he hadn’t said anything, so good.” He gave a thumbs up. “Anyway, I have to admit that I really didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know anyone else like him. I mean, you know how it is in Lawrence.”

Sam barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. _I know all too well._

“And I didn’t know if I was going to end up in the same situation on campus, you know, messes everywhere, my stuff going missing, instead of a dude and a chick going at it in my bed, two dudes going at it, whatever.” He waved his hand. “But Cas is so fucking neat. I mean, he keeps his place pristine. The first time I set a drink on his table without a coaster, he gave me this death stare.” He winced at the memory. “You would’ve thought I threw a baby off the balcony.”

Sam blinked. “Wow.” _Maybe he’s not pissed at me, since he didn’t give me the death stare._

Dean nodded. “Yep. Got my shit together real quick after that. So yeah, the place is always clean, and I help to keep it that way. He does most of the cooking, even orders food, and he always orders enough for both of us. He’s never touched any of my stuff.” Dean laughed, considering. “Although, that’s probably because it’s all too cheap for his tastes.” He shook his head. “I’ve never even heard of half the crap he keeps in his bathroom. But I used his shampoo once, and it was heavenly.”

Sam couldn’t help feeling increasingly jealous even as his desire to know more intensified. “So, he’s basically just better than your previous roommates.”

“No comparison,” Dean said. “Cas is better, and the living space is way better. The condo is huge, it’s practically a one level house that just happens to be on the tenth floor. There’s even a pool on the roof.” He took another sip of beer. “And as for the sex thing, it turned out to be a non-issue.”

“How so?” Sam asked, still waiting to learn whether a throttling was warranted or not.

“I mean I’ve never once seen Cas bring a guy home,” Dean explained. “I feel kind of bad, because if I wasn’t with Lisa, I would definitely have been keeping some company, but I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Either he goes out to do what he needs to do, or he’s got the lowest sex drive of any dude I’ve ever known.” Dean paused and considered. “Or maybe not.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, his pulse racing.

“He does have a tendency to flirt,” Dean admitted. “When he gets bored, or when I walk around shirtless or whatever. He’ll make a comment here and there. It doesn’t bother me. I actually find it flattering.” 

Sam felt all the blood drain out of his face. _So then, he doesn’t actually like me. That’s just how he is with everyone. Once he gets comfortable around them._ “It really doesn’t bother you?” he pressed.

Dean laughed. “No. It was a little weird at first, but now I just joke back. Besides, he never crosses the line into being disrespectful. He’ll look, but he doesn’t touch.” He shrugged. “On the other hand, I probably touch him way more than he would like. You know, clapping him on the shoulder, stuff like that.” He sighed and shook his head. “I jokingly put him in a headlock once, and he bit the living shit out of me. I tell you, I’ll never make that mistake again.”

Sam blinked, recalling what Cas had said to him the other night about how he was a tactile person. _Touch conveys meaning. So if he never touches Dean, but he touches me, then that means he does like me?_ “I’m so fucking confused,” he muttered aloud.

“What’s there to be confused about?” Dean asked, taken aback by Sam’s response. “Cas is the perfect roommate. Quiet, clean, keeps everything low-key. A little bossy and definitely spoiled yeah, but hell, for someone who grew up rich, he’s surprisingly down to earth.” He sighed wistfully. “And his car… Now you know I love my Baby, but let me tell you, the looks that you get from girls when you’re riding through the hills in a Porsche.” He shook his head. “I don’t give a damn if they think Cas is my boyfriend. They fucking dig the hell out of the car.”

“Sounds like a pretty good arrangement,” Sam said grudgingly.

Dean nodded. “Pretty much. I can’t complain.” He finished his beer. “Except that I’ve seen Titanic way too many times.” He rolled his eyes. “And Mean Girls. I mean Jesus, how does he never get sick of that movie? ‘If you’re from Africa, then why are you white?’” he mimicked. 

Sam couldn’t help snickering. “He was actually at the premiere,” he informed Dean.

“I know,” Dean replied, rolling his eyes again. “I tell you, Cas is pretty interesting.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, his smile gradually fading. “He is.”

By the time their dad came home and joined them to watch the game, Sam was starting to feel marginally less dismayed about what happened with Cas. He hated to admit it, but he had been so wrapped up in his own mind for the past few days that he had almost completely forgotten why Cas was even here in the first place. _This isn’t just about me._ He regretted that he had made Cas so uncomfortable that he was walking around outside somewhere in the cold, rather than taking part in their tradition. 

When the front door opened again, Sam looked up hopefully, only to see his mom walk in, carrying the bags that she had taken to Ellen and Bobby’s.

“Time to eat!” Dean announced, slapping the sofa cushion.

“Not quite yet,” Mary said, laughing. “Turkey needs to rest for about half an hour, and I have two more things to toss in the oven in the meantime.”

Sam stood, eager to do anything that would help to take his mind off Cas. “Can I help?”

Mary’s eyebrows went up. “Again? There really isn’t much left to do.” She waved him back down. “Stay and watch the game. I’ll let you boys know when everything is ready.”

Sam sat back down reluctantly. His knew his mother meant well, trying to give him more quality time with his dad and brother, but he had long since lost any interest in the game. He barely noticed when his mom called his dad into the kitchen to take the turkey out of the oven. A nudge from Dean finally got his attention. “What?” he asked, looking over at his brother.

“You good?” Dean asked, brows furrowed. “You’ve got a serious case of resting bitch face going on. It’s far worse than your usual broodiness.”

Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I’m good. Just ready to eat, that’s all. It’s been a long day.”

“You didn’t even do anything—” Dean started, then stopped as the front door opened and Castiel walked in.

Sam didn’t bother to turn around, lacking all confidence in his ability to keep a straight face.

“Hey Cas,” Dean said, cheerfully. “Did you have a nice jog around the block?”

Castiel gave Dean a dry look. 

“Oh come on,” Dean sighed. “You’re not still pissed at me about the cold hands thing, are you? That was hours ago.”

Castiel shook his head. “I wasn’t angry in the first place.” He gave Sam a brief glance. “At anyone.” He unfastened his coat. “And yes, I enjoyed my walk. It is a quiet neighborhood, the few people that I met were friendly, and I haven’t been able to appreciate the smell of burning wood in years.”

“Not a big need for fireplaces out in LA?” Sam asked, tentatively offering a start at a conversation.

“Definitely not,” Castiel replied, giving Sam a tiny hint of a smile.

“Yeah well,” Dean said. “I for one, can’t wait to get back to the coast.” He sighed contently. “Perfect sunny days, warm weather, half-naked babes with big fake—”

“Dinner is ready,” called Mary from the dining room.

“Finally,” Dean said, jumping to his feet as he turned off the television. He rubbed his hands together. “If either of you so much as looks at the pie before I get my piece, there’s gonna be hell to pay.”

Sam rolled his eyes as he stood up. _He should be kissing my ass._ He glanced at Castiel.

“I’ll be there in just a moment,” Castiel said, picking up on Sam’s questioning expression. 

“Okay,” Sam said. He took a step toward the dining room, and then stopped. “Cas, we’re good right?”

“Of course,” Castiel answered. “See you in a minute?”

Sam nodded and continued into the dining room. He didn’t want to press Cas for information, especially not right now. _Maybe later once everyone goes to sleep we can talk._ His thoughts trailed off as he stopped beside the dining room table. “Wow,” he breathed. Even though he had taken part in the preparation, he had no idea how the finished product would turn out.

His mom had set out her fabled wedding china, a gift from her parents, that Sam could recall seeing only a few times in his life. Equally rare, the genuine silverware which had been in her family for generations, which Sam had vague memories of seeing his mother polish once when he was a small child. The usual glasses had been replaced with impossibly delicate stemware, that made Sam feel anxious just looking at them. If after seeing all this, he had any doubts about how seriously his mom had taken her hosting duties, they would’ve been immediately dispelled upon seeing the food.

One serving dish was piled high with billowy mashed potatoes, paired with a full gravy boat. Another dish held steaming green beans, accented with little pieces of bacon. Another dish contained sweet potato casserole, topped with melted marshmallow. Yet another dish held golden ears of fresh corn, heat still rising from the buttery kernels. In the center of it all was the massive and expensive turkey, roasted to golden perfection, loaded with stuffing and looking every bit worth a hundred bucks. On either end of the feast was a pie, one pumpkin and one apple, and off to the sides, a basket of freshly baked dinner rolls and a bowl of homemade cranberry sauce.

“Holy shit,” Dean breathed. “How the hell did Mom find time to make all this stuff?”

“Well,” began Mary, walking into the room with one more pie. “I had help.”

“Is that pecan?” Dean asked, immediately captivated by the new arrival.

Mary laughed and set the pie on the table. “Of course. For someone who doesn’t bake, you sure do know your pies.”

“What do you mean you had help?” Dean asked.

“Sam,” Mary replied. “He peeled all of the potatoes, husked the corn, snapped the green beans, and sautéed the bacon.” She nodded. “And, I even taught him how to make pie crust. He actually rolled out the crust for the pecan pie, so you should be thanking him Dean. I know pecan is your favorite.” She went back into the kitchen.

“Wow,” Dean said, taking his seat. He grudgingly gave Sam a nod of appreciation. “Way to go Sam. You’re going to make a fine wife one day. Turning into a real Betty Crocker, right before my eyes.”

“Shut up,” Sam replied, rolling his eyes. He sat down in his own chair, across the table from Dean. “You’d just better hope Lisa doesn’t wise up and dump your ass when she gets tired of eating cereal for dinner.” He looked up as Castiel approached, his expression thoughtful.

Castiel paused beside Sam, looking over the impressive display of food. “You seem to have downplayed the extent of your contribution this morning. Sounds like quite a bit more than chopping, peeling, and stuff like that,” he said, his voice low so that just Sam could hear him. “I can’t help feeling somewhat misled.”

“Well, you know,” Sam whispered back. “I didn’t want you to think that I was uncool. Or whatever you guys say out in LA.”

“Impossible,” Castiel replied quietly.

Sam felt certain that Castiel was about to sit next to him, and was inwardly relieved that they seemed to have gotten over their mishap from earlier. Instead Cas moved around to the other side of the table. Sam tried not to let his dismay show on his face when Cas chose the seat beside Dean. _This isn’t just about me,_ he reminded himself, even as he felt the bitter sting of perceived rejection, whether real or imagined. He quickly pushed the feeling away as his mom and dad joined the rest of them at the dinner table.

“Alright,” Mary said. “Now I want us all to go around the table and say something that we are thankful for. I’ll start.” She cleared her throat. “I am thankful for my wonderful husband, who works so hard to provide for us. I am thankful for my eldest son, even though we miss him terribly when he’s away at school, he makes us so proud. I am thankful for my youngest son, who will be leaving next fall, who we will also miss terribly and who will make us just as proud. Lastly, I am thankful for our guest, who has been a true friend to Dean, a joy to have around, and is welcome in our home anytime.”

“I don’t know about that,” Dean mumbled. “Cas is charging me rent after all. I think a true friend would let me crash for free.”

“Dean honey, unless you’re sharing something you’re thankful for, I don’t want to hear it,” Mary said sweetly. 

Dean rolled his eyes and huffed. “Fine.” He sighed. “I’m thankful for my family, my friends, my girlfriend, my car, and uh, California weather.” He snapped his fingers. “Oh, and this food. It looks great, Mom. You’ve really outdone yourself.”

“Thank you,” Mary said. She turned to Sam. “Sam?”

Sam glanced around the table. “Uh, I’m thankful for my family, my friends—”

“Oh come on,” Dean interrupted. “Don’t plagiarize me. Get your own speech.”

“I would hardly call what you gave a speech,” Castiel quipped. 

“Quiet you,” Dean retorted.

“I’m also thankful,” Sam continued, raising his voice. He glanced at Dean. “That my brother and I are going to separate colleges. That’s all.” A quick expression of hurt passed over Dean’s face so quickly that Sam would’ve sworn it had never been there at all.

Mary sighed and shook her head. “Try to do something nice…” She looked at her husband. “John?”

John cleared his throat. “First off, I am thankful for my beautiful and amazing wife, without whom, none of this would be possible. Mary, you are the glue that holds this family together. Without you we would be lost.” He glanced pointedly at his sons. “Of course, I am thankful for my boys, my legacy to be carried on, and my investments in your future to bring you success in life. The two of you make me so proud. I only wish I had more time to spend with you.” He sighed wistfully. “But I am thankful too for the steady work that allows me to keep a roof over our heads, and as always I’m thankful for our health.”

Mary tapped her finger on the table. “I knew that I had forgotten something.”

“A pretty important something,” John added. “We’re not as young as we used to be. You know, people are like cars in a way. Once you get to a certain age, things start falling off.”

Sam and Dean looked at each other, both of them straining not to be the first one to break the dignified atmosphere.

Mary sighed. “John, please don’t talk about body parts falling off while we’re about to eat.”

John shook his head. “I never used the words body parts. I kept it vague and said things.” He pointed his fork at Mary. “You’re the one who made it graphic with talk of body parts. I mean, we’re about to eat, for crissakes.”

Sam threw his head back, laughing uproariously.

Dean slapped his hand on the table, his shoulders shaking.

Mary shook her head, trying not to laugh herself. “Lord, give me the strength.” Somehow retaining her composure, she turned to Castiel. “Would you like to say a few words? You’re our guest, so you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”

Sam and Dean’s laughter tapered off as they turned their respectful attention to Castiel.

Castiel cleared his throat. “I only wish to say that I am thankful for the invitation into your home. You have all made me feel welcome in a way that I have truly never experienced before, and I will be forever thankful that I had a chance to be a part of your wonderful family, if only for a few days.” He inclined his head to each of them in turn. “I will treasure the memory of my time here for the rest of my life. Thank you all so very much.”

Sam swallowed hard. Until this moment he hadn’t really allowed himself to consider the possibility that he might genuinely never see Cas again. Once his brother graduated, who knew where he would end up for business school if he even decided to go. Or where Cas would go for medical school. Even now, there were a lot of things that could happen between today and graduation. They could get in a fight, Dean could move out, or any other combination of events that would prevent Sam from ever being in the same room as his brother’s roommate again.

“Sam,” Mary repeated.

Sam snapped out of his reverie. “Huh?”

“Bow your head for the grace,” Mary said.

Sam glanced around and realized that everyone else was already bowed. “Oh. Sorry.”

“Now who wants to say grace?” Mary asked.

Dean cleared his throat. “Good food, good meat,” he began solemnly.

“Dean,” warned Mary.

“Good God, let’s eat!” John, Dean, and Sam finished in unison, before bursting into laughter.

Mary shook her head, finally giving in to her amusement. “You boys are the absolute worst. I mean it.” She gave Castiel an apologetic smile. “You see what I’m up against?” She sighed wistfully. “If only I had a daughter to balance things out.”

“Sam’s hair is so long, he’s practically a girl,” Dean offered.

Without looking up from his plate, Sam kicked Dean sharply under the table.

“Ow,” Dean grunted. He glared at his brother. “Really Sam? Kicking? Is that what we’re doing now? Grow up.”

Sam cast a panicked glance at Castiel. _Oh crap. Now he really is going to think I’m just some high school kid._ He sighed. “Sorry. I had a cramp.”

“A menstrual cramp,” Dean shot back.

“Dammit Dean,” said John, dropping his fork. “We’re trying to eat here! Don’t talk about menstrual cramps!” He pushed the dish of cranberry sauce away.

This time it was Mary who struggled to maintain her composure. She tossed her head back, laughing so hard that tears sprang to the corners of her eyes. “My,” she gasped, between giggles, “how the tables have turned!” 

John shook his head and joined in, snickering right along with his wife. Soon they were all in fits of laughter, the joyful sound seeming to add the finishing touch to an already perfect meal.

Hours later, Sam, Dean, and Castiel sat alone at the dining room table, while John and Mary cleared the dishes and put the food away in the kitchen. Sam and Dean had exchanged knowing looks of disgust from the overly playful banter that their parents had been engaging in since dessert, and neither one of them had any intentions of setting foot in the kitchen anytime soon.

“I think I’m going to go slip into a food coma,” Dean announced, rubbing his stomach. He glanced lazily at his brother and roommate. “Unless you two want a rematch in Cards Against Humanity?”

Sam glanced at Castiel.

“No thank you,” Castiel replied. “Perhaps tomorrow night.”

Dean shrugged. “I can pretty much guarantee that I won’t be here tomorrow night, or the night after that, but hey. It’s whatever.” He slowly pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. “Catch you two in the morning.”

“So,” Sam said, once Dean had gone upstairs. “Did you enjoy dinner?”

“Between the food and the company, it was incredible,” Castiel answered. “Never in my life have I enjoyed a meal so much. I am so glad that I came here. Your family is wonderful. I sort of wish that I could join it, to be honest.”

Sam shifted. _Well that could probably be arranged, give or take a few years…_ “Uh thanks.” _Yeah, that definitely won’t send him running back to LA._ He cleared his throat. “I was wondering if you wanted to watch movies again tonight.”

Castiel looked at Sam for a long moment before slowly shaking his head. “Thank you for the offer, but I must regretfully decline.”

“Oh,” Sam said quietly. “Okay then.”

“It’s just that I’m still rather tired,” Castiel explained, his tone genuinely apologetic. “I thought that I might simply read for a bit before going to sleep.” He gave a single dry laugh. “Also, your brother has already informed me that he requires my assistance quite early tomorrow morning.”

“For what?” Sam asked, feeling his earlier jealousy flaring up again. _Dean ditches him all week, and now when it’s almost time for them to leave, he wants to hang out. Unbelievable._

Castiel sighed and shook his head. “Black Friday shopping.”

Sam grimaced. _Jesus…_ “I am so sorry.”

“As am I,” Castiel replied. “I have never had the occasion to participate, given that I generally purchase most things online, but this is one experience that I could certainly do without, if the news reports are accurate.”

“Well,” Sam said carefully, “I’ve been before once or twice when I was a kid. I wouldn’t want to do it again, but it’s not the end of the world.”

Castiel chuckled. “How reassuring.” He pushed back his own chair and stood up. “Well, if I am trampled to death by rabid consumers, please tell my family that I hate them. They deserve to know.”

Sam laughed. “Will do. Well goodnight then.”

“Goodnight Sam,” Castiel replied warmly.

Sam watched him leave before pushing back his own chair. He briefly considered calling Charlie to fill her in on the day’s events, before rejecting the idea. _I’ll call her tomorrow. Maybe she’ll be able to clue me in as to what the hell I should do._ He climbed the stairs slowly and made his way to his bedroom, his own fatigue starting to take hold. 

Sam had just settled himself in his bed for a nap that was likely to turn into full sleep when his bedroom door opened. He cracked open one eye and saw his brother standing in the doorway.

“Hey,” Dean said, stepping into the room.

“Hey yourself,” Sam replied, his voice already groggy. “What’s up?”

“What you said earlier,” Dean started, clearly uncomfortable. “About not wanting to go to the same school as me…”

Sam blinked, already having forgotten his offhand comment during dinner. “Huh?”

“UCLA is a good school,” Dean continued. He walked over and sat down on the edge of Sam’s bed, his expression contrite. “You shouldn’t rule it out just because I’m there. College isn’t like high school, with all the reputations and clique shit. No one is going to know that I’m your brother.” He sighed. “I mean, I get that you want to do your own thing, but you still can if you go there. I wouldn’t be breathing down your neck, trying to tell you what to do or anything.”

“Oh,” Sam said, finally remembering what Dean was referring to. He felt a pang of guilt. _I shouldn’t have lashed out at him like that. It’s not his fault I messed things up with Cas._ “No, that’s not why I don’t want to go there.” He shrugged. “I mean, no offense, but UCLA is kind of a party school.”

Dean huffed. “It’s not a party school.” He considered for a moment. “Well yeah, the parties are pretty epic, but there’s a lot more to it than that.”

“If you say so,” Sam replied. “But I already know that it’s not for me. I’m leaning more towards Stanford.”

“Oh really?” Dean asked, his eyebrows raised. “That’s a pretty good school too. I mean, it’s alright.”

“Hell of a lot better than UCLA,” Sam retorted. 

“Well, I don’t know about all that,” Dean replied. “But, it’s only about six or seven hours away, so if you do decide to go there, we’ll probably see each other on the weekends.”

“You’re graduating in the spring,” Sam reminded him.

“Well, the business school is right there,” Dean grumbled.

“So you’re going?” Sam asked, sitting up. “You finally made up your mind?”

“Yeah,” Dean conceded. “You know, I’ve been bitching about two more years. Meanwhile, Cas has got another year to go on his pre-med, then four years of medical school, and then another three to seven years of residency.” He shook his head. “That poor bastard isn’t going to be free for over a decade.” 

“Whoa,” Sam said.

“Yep,” Dean agreed. “I could never do it. That’s just too much damn school.” He glanced at Sam. “I heard that you’re set on pre-law.”

“I am,” Sam replied. “Once I get to law school, then I’ll decide what I want to specialize in.”

Dean grinned. “Man, look at us. A couple of small town middle class kids, turning into young professionals. I guess Mom and Dad really lucked out.”

“Guess so,” Sam agreed.

Dean stood up and cleared his throat. “Well, that’s all I wanted to say. So… yeah.”

“You want to hear something crazy?” Sam said quietly. “Even though I really like having the hall bathroom to myself, and the snacks last a lot longer since it’s just me… I actually do miss you being around.” He shrugged. “So, if I do decide to go to Stanford, it could be cool to hang out on the weekend sometimes.”

“Good to know,” Dean replied. He snapped his finger. “And now I’m going to make sure that I eat all the snacks before I leave.” He pointed. “Thanks for the tip.”

“I take it all back,” Sam called, settling down again. “I hate your ass. I never want to see your stupid face again.”

Dean flipped up his middle finger as he walked out the door. “Whatever, Samantha.”

Sam snickered as he closed his eyes. _Yeah, definitely gonna be Stanford._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Only three chapters left to go!


	5. Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As one holiday gives way to another, Sam realizes his situation with Castiel may be more complicated than he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all feedback (whether reviews or kudos) is greatly appreciated!

Sam looked out the darkened window and yawned, wondering why he had even agreed to this. He had meant what he said to Dean after Thanksgiving dinner. In spite of such perks as not having to share a bathroom, or getting extra attention from their parents, he truly did miss his brother sometimes. This was not one of those times. By all rights, he should be at home in his bed right now, deep within the blissful dreamless sleep of a food coma. Not sprawled gracelessly in the backseat of Dean’s car on his way downtown to the shopping mall in the wee hours of the morning. 

Sam still hadn’t entirely recovered from the violation of having his own pillow yanked out from beneath his unsuspecting head and then slapped down onto his defenseless face while his brother ordered him to “Get up loser, we’re going shopping.” At least he knew now Dean was telling the truth, he really had seen Mean Girls too many times.

Sam’s initial response had been to reclaim his pillow before battering Dean repeatedly across the head with it and telling him to kindly fuck off, as he had no interest in stepping foot anywhere near the melee known as Black Friday. Dean’s offer to treat him and Cas to a late breakfast afterwards had not done much to sway his opinion until he actually stopped to consider that Cas being there would be the only thing that could possibly make this experience tolerable. He gave Dean one last whomp with the pillow for good measure and grudgingly began to get up.

As the car turned into the mall parking lot with the mob of aspiring holiday shoppers all vying for the best parking spaces, Dean began streaming curse words with every breath, and Sam once again reconsidered the wisdom of his decision. Only when his eyes met Cas’ in the rearview mirror, barely containing his amusement at Dean’s frustration, did Sam feel a tiny bit glad that he’d come. 

After a few close calls, Dean finally pulled the Impala into a parking spot. He let out a sigh of relief as he turned off the engine. “Thank fucking God,” he muttered. “I thought we were never going to find a space.”

“And yet here we are,” Castiel said, glancing out the window. “Only about a mile away from the nearest entrance.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “We’re all young and able-bodied. A little walking never hurt anyone.” He nodded his head towards the backseat. “Besides, if you get tired, Sasquatch can carry you on his back.”

Sam resisted the urge to kick the back of Dean’s seat. He was running out of time to spend with Cas, and the last thing he wanted to do was come across as childish.

The first rays of sunlight were beginning to appear, softening the dark sky along the horizon as they made their way across the parking lot. Sam tried and failed to suppress a yawn, earning a sympathetic glance from Castiel.

“You don’t typically get up before sunrise, I take it?” Castiel asked.

Sam shook his head. “Never. I didn’t even get up this early for team practice.”

“Sammy likes to sleep in,” Dean said. “I used to have to drag his big ass out of bed by the legs every morning.” He shook his head. “My parents should’ve enrolled him in night school.”

Sam rolled his eyes and turned back to Castiel. “I’m not that bad. I can get up really early if I have to, or if it’s for something important.” He shot Dean a pointed glance. “I just don’t like to get up for discounted flat screen TVs.”

“Not here for a TV,” Dean replied.

Sam almost stopped walking until a honk from a disgruntled motorist trying to maneuver around them spurred him back into movement. “If you’re not here for a TV, then why the hell are we here?” he asked. “What’s the damn point?”

“He’s getting a gift for Lisa,” Castiel explained. 

Sam gave Dean an annoyed look. “So you’re buying her a TV?”

Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Jewelry,” Castiel explained. “The pieces that are generally out of reach to an impoverished college student such as your brother, become moderately more affordable during the early sale. Or at least that’s what the retailers want you to believe.” He shook his head. “In truth, they spend the rest of the year getting you accustomed to the overpriced cost, and then mark it down to its actual sale value for a week or so. It’s a scam, through and through.”

Dean shot Castiel a glare. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Castiel said lightly.

Sam mentally braced himself for the crowds as they passed over the threshold of the mall. People were everywhere, milling about in doorways, leaning against railings, and rushing in every direction, intent on getting what they came for. There was markedly less pushing and shoving than he recalled from past Black Friday trips, but he suspected that might have something to do with his increase in height. Towering over the majority of the other shoppers somehow seemed to make it more bearable. Even so, the Christmas music blaring from every speaker was a bit much this early in the morning. He felt a hand tug on his sleeve and looked down to see Castiel watching him.

“Are you alright?” Castiel asked. “Would you like some coffee?”

Sam shook his head, trying to ignore the vocalized stylings of Michael Bublé. “I’m good. I just don’t like Christmas music.”

Castiel looked horrified. “How can you not like Christmas music?”

Sam returned the look. “How can you actually enjoy it?”

Castiel laughed. “What’s not to enjoy?” He waved his hand. “Themes of love, hope, joy, unabashed consumerism… All set to a catchy beat or a jaunty piano accompaniment.” He shrugged. “Call me crazy, but I love it.”

Sam grimaced. “I wouldn’t call you crazy. Just deeply disturbed.”

Castiel chuckled. “Fair enough.” He gave Sam an appraising look. “So tell me why you hate Christmas music.”

Sam shrugged, already feeling his face warming from the look Cas was giving him. “It’s cheesy.”

“Cheesy?” Castiel said, his voice filled with skepticism.

“Yes, cheesy,” Sam said. “And Mom plays it non-stop in December. If you spent years being subjected to the stuff, you’d probably hate it too.”

“Interesting theory,” Castiel murmured. He leaned his head to the side. “Does Dean hate Christmas music?”

They both looked ahead to where Dean was currently strolling along, nodding his head and snapping his fingers to the melody.

“He loves the stuff,” Sam muttered. “Him and Mom gang up on me, and because Dad’s always at work, I just have to suck it up and deal.”

“So it would seem that your theory is flawed,” Castiel began. He leaned his head to the side again. “And yet…”

Sam glanced at Cas. “What?”

Castiel gave Sam a tiny smile. “There was never any Christmas music played in my house. The only music that was ever heard in the Novak residence was the sound of my siblings and I practicing whichever musical instrument had been assigned to us. Sometimes classical music was allowed at dinner, but that was all.”

Sam’s brows furrowed. “Does your family not celebrate Christmas?”

Castiel nodded. “They do. My mother hires someone to set up a tree and arrange the outside of the house with lights. There’s a catered dinner and some exchange of gifts, but it’s all very clinical. There’s no feeling in it.”

Sam’s furrow deepened. “That sucks.”

“Yes, it does,” Castiel agreed. He looked at Sam again. “No need to get upset. I’ve learned to celebrate Christmas in my own way since I became an adult.” He smiled. “And part of that includes the shameless enjoyment of Christmas music, no matter how cheesy it may be.”

“Is that all?” Sam asked, returning the smile.

“I also consume an obscene amount of eggnog,” Castiel confessed.

Sam cringed and made a gagging motion. “Oh God! How can you drink that stuff? It’s so disgusting.” His stomach twisted at the thought of that nightmarish concoction of egg and dairy.

Castiel’s lips twitched and he looked away. “I’ve swallowed worse.”

Sam almost tripped over his own feet.

“Hey!” called Dean from some distance away. He was standing in front of a jewelry case. “Get your asses over here! I need your opinion on something.”

Castiel dutifully walked over to Dean, with Sam following.

Sam tried not to dwell too much on what Cas had just said, but he could still feel the telltale blush on his face. _The more I learn, the worse it gets._ He cleared his throat and glanced into the jewelry case, remembering why he was there. “Isn’t most of this way out of your price range?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at some of the stickers. “What are you, the campus pot dealer?”

“They’re having a forty percent off sale,” Dean gritted. “Why the hell else do you think I got us all up at the asscrack of dawn?”

Sam snorted. “Except the sun wasn’t even up yet, so you can’t say it was the asscrack of dawn.” He considered. “It was still the taint.”

Castiel let out a low laugh.

Dean ignored Sam and waved for the clerk to come over. After some deliberation, Dean pointed at a ring. “What do you think?”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “In my experience with women, which is admittedly quite limited,” he added, “unless you are proposing, it is best to steer clear of rings.”

“Point taken,” Dean replied. “So what do you think? A necklace?”

“Does Lisa generally wear necklaces?” Castiel asked.

Dean shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Jesus,” muttered Sam, rolling his eyes. “We’re going to be here all damn day.”

“Show me her picture again,” suggested Castiel.

Dean fished his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Cas.

Sam peered over Cas’ shoulder. “Oh man… you are so whipped. I can’t believe you made her your lock screen.”

“Nobody is asking for your opinion Sam,” Dean snapped.

“Then why did you bring me?” Sam shot back.

“No necklace,” Castiel announced, cutting off their bickering. “This is a very nice picture, lovely outfit, but she isn’t wearing a necklace. So I’m going to assume that she isn’t a necklace girl.” He handed the phone back to Dean. “She really is beautiful.”

“Thanks,” Dean said, putting his phone away. “What do you mean, not a necklace girl?”

“My mother is a necklace girl,” Castiel explained. “The woman will not show her face without at least one strand of pearls. I think she even sleeps in them. That’s the sort of girl that you buy a necklace for.” He nodded towards the case. “They’re all nice, and I’m sure that Lisa will be happy with any one of them, but it will likely sit in a jewelry box or a dresser drawer ninety percent of the time.” He shrugged. “But it’s your call.”

Dean blinked. “Well, with the kind of money I’m spending, I don’t want the crap sitting in a drawer!” He huffed. “I want to get her something she’s actually going to use!”

“How about a set of tires?” Sam offered. “I think Sears is having a sale too.”

Dean ignored his brother and turned to Cas. “What about a bracelet?”

Castiel considered. “Is she a bracelet girl?”

Dean groaned and ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t fucking know. Why does this shit have to be so damn complicated?”

“Here’s an idea,” Sam said. “Why don’t you just call her and I don’t know, ask her what she wants?”

Dean gave Sam a pitying glance. “And now I understand why you don’t have a girlfriend.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed.

“Earrings,” Castiel said quickly, noticing the set of Sam’s shoulders. “As far as jewelry is concerned, you can never go wrong with a simple pair of diamond studs. Even the most practical-minded girl can find them unobtrusive enough for everyday wear.”

Dean considered. “I’ve seen her wearing earrings before. I guess you’re right.” He moved around to the next corner of the jewelry case.

Castiel glanced at Sam. “Are you alright?”

Sam sighed. “I’m fine. It’s no big deal.”

“Where do you want to eat?” Castiel asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Sam shrugged and glanced around. “Anywhere is fine with me. Where do you want to eat?”

Castiel gave Sam a tiny smile. “I’m not from here, so I’ll defer to your judgment. Any place that won’t give me food poisoning is acceptable.” He lowered his voice. “Although since your brother is treating, don’t be afraid to shoot for the stars.”

“Hey besties,” Dean grumbled. “Check this out.”

Castiel and Sam moved to where Dean was standing in front of the earrings. 

Dean pointed at a moderately sized pair of diamond studs. “What about these? Do you think she’ll like them?”

“Well, that depends,” Castiel mused, studying the earrings with a wary eye. “That’s not your rent money you’re about to spend, is it?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Of course not. I saved up for this.”

Castiel nodded sagely. “In that case, I’m sure she’ll love them.” He winked at Sam.

Sam laughed and shook his head.

“Alright, thanks,” Dean said. He signaled for the clerk. “You heard the man. Go ahead and box it up.”

“Is that all you came to get?” Sam asked, watching balefully as Dean signed the credit card slip. _I can’t believe you woke us up for this._

“Not quite,” Dean replied, taking the bag from the clerk. “There’s one more thing. Come on.”

Sam rolled his eyes and followed his brother, ever aware of Castiel’s presence beside him. He was glad that whatever issue had been between them yesterday seemed forgotten. Cas was being just as friendly as he had been before Sam’s impromptu tackle, and he guessed that maybe he just needed some time to get over it. Whatever the reasoning, Sam was determined not to make that mistake again. From now on, he was keeping his hands to himself. 

The moment Sam realized the store Dean was heading towards he stopped abruptly, almost causing other shoppers to bump into him. He ignored their irritated glances and stood his ground. “Nope. No fucking way.”

“What?” Dean asked, turning around. “It’s just underwear, Sam.”

Sam shook his head. “Like I said. No fucking way. Forget it Dean.” In the back of his mind he had a faint memory of being at the mall with his mom and seeing what his young eyes had immediately mistaken for a candy store. He had made a beeline for it, drawn by the colors and the shininess, and his confusion at finding underwear instead of candy had only further cemented his belief that no good could come from visiting the mall. The glossy black store front with its pink border and bright lighting might as well have been the gates of Hell. There was no force in the world that could compel him to set foot in Victoria’s Secret. He would’ve rather died in screaming agony on the spot.

Dean rolled his eyes and turned to his roommate. “Cas?”

Castiel looked genuinely confused. “Why would you want my opinion? I don’t know the first thing about lingerie.”

“Your opinion was spot on with the jewelry,” Dean reasoned. “I just don’t want to buy her anything trashy.”

Castiel gave Dean a dry look. “Then perhaps mall underwear marketed towards teenagers might not be the best way to go.”

“Aha!” Dean said, vindicated. “You do know something. Come on Cas, just help me out, okay? You have pretty good taste, as far as I can tell.” He gave his roommate a pleading glance. “At least keep me from buying something that’ll make my girlfriend look like a stripper.”

Sam wisely decided to keep his mouth shut. 

Castiel sighed and glanced hopefully at Sam. “I don’t suppose you want to back me up on this?”

Sam shook his head, deliberately not meeting Cas’ eyes. He was afraid that maybe, just maybe there was one force that could get him in that store, and he had no desire to test that theory. “No thanks. I’ll wait.”

Castiel turned back to Dean, resigned to his fate. “Very well. As I’ve said, I know nothing of these matters. Your safest bet would be a gift card, so that she may pick out her own present.”

“The earrings are her present,” Dean replied with a grin. “This one’s for me.”

“It’s a good thing I haven’t eaten yet,” Sam said, scowling. “Or I’d be throwing up right now.”

Dean waved a hand. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, you’ll get to that point eventually. Come on Cas.”

Castiel gave Sam one last look before following Dean into the store.

Sam sighed and moved aside so that he wouldn’t block the other shoppers. _This sucks._ He leaned against the wall beside the pink border, trying to be inconspicuous. He soon noted with some alarm that he was actually getting noticed a great deal. Every single girl that walked in or out of the store glanced in his direction. _They probably think I’m a creep._ He shuffled further down the wall, putting as much space between himself and the store as he could.

Sam felt his phone buzz in his pocket and huffed in annoyance. _That had better not be Dean. I swear I am not going in there._ He dug his phone out and looked at the screen.

C:-is that u i see  
C:-lurkin outsid the panty store?

Sam’s head snapped up. _Charlie’s here?_ He looked around for her red hair or rainbow beanie, and returned his eyes to his phone when he didn’t find her.

S:-U here?  
S:-Where u at  
C:-bubble tea  
C:-on ur right

Sam glanced up again, still not finding his friend.

C:-i said ur right  
C:-stop makin honor studnts look bad

Sam turned around and finally saw Charlie leaning against a peppermint striped column, across from the Santa's workshop display. She gave a friendly wave with her cup. Sam glanced back at Victoria’s Secret. _If Dean is doing the same thing he did at the jewelry stand, I’ve got plenty of time._ He moved away from the wall and started walking towards Charlie. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello?” Charlie said, lifting up a large Best Buy bag in the hand that wasn’t holding the drink. “Black Friday aka sweet deals on laptops, computer parts, and other assorted accessories.” She raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing here? I didn’t know Victoria’s Secret hired a bouncer.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Dean dragged me here. He’s shopping for Lisa.”

Charlie blinked and then began to nod. “Okay. Watch my bag. I’ll go help him pick something out. I’ll even make sure it’s tasteful.”

Sam laughed. “He’s got that covered. Cas is helping him.” As soon as the words had left his mouth, Sam regretted it. He could see Charlie practically lighting up from within, a grin reminding him of a Cheshire cat appearing on her face.

“Castiel is here?” Charlie asked, her voice far too casual for her ecstatic facial expression.

Sam nodded, groaning inwardly. “Yes. He’s here.”

“This I gotta see,” Charlie said. “Here, hold my tea. They don’t let you take drinks into clothing stores.”

“No freaking way,” Sam said, backing away from Charlie’s cup as though it were radioactive. “I won’t do it.”

“Dude, don’t have an aneurysm,” Charlie chided. “I’m not going to introduce myself or anything embarrassing like that. I just want to see what the great love of my best friend’s life looks like in person. That’s all.”

“He’s not the love of my life,” Sam muttered. “Definitely not after what happened yesterday.”

Charlie was immediately serious. “What happened yesterday?” she asked, her former glee replaced only with concern for her friend. 

Sam led Charlie a few yards away from the store to the small dining table in front of the bubble tea stand. They both took a seat and he filled her in on the previous day’s events. 

Charlie listened intently and let out an appreciative whistle once Sam had finished his tale. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “I don’t know what the hell is going on. I don’t know if I should just forget about the whole thing or what.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, he’s definitely into guys, and I thought he was into me, but maybe I came on too strong and turned him off.”

“Or you turned him hella on,” Charlie suggested. “That would explain why he bailed on you. He was afraid you two were gonna go to town in the middle of your parents’ living room.”

Sam blinked, taken aback. “Really? You think so?”

Charlie raised an eyebrow. “At the risk of T.M.I, be honest. If Brady had done to you what you did to Castiel, what would you have done?”

“I would’ve nailed him right then and there,” Sam replied without hesitation. “But that was different. Brady was my boyfriend, and Cas is—”

“Your brother’s roommate,” Charlie finished. “So think about the position that puts him in.” She rolled her eyes. “And not like sexual positions, but how does that work out for him if he does get with you? Like, how does that affect his standing with Dean?”

Sam blinked again. He realized that Charlie was right. Regardless of what happened or didn’t happen this week, Castiel would have to go on living with Dean. If Cas did like Sam, that had the potential to make things very awkward between them. _But so what? I like him, and if he likes me, then why the hell do I have to take Dean’s feelings into account? He has nothing to do with it._ He sighed. _Then again, Dean's already had some pretty messed up roommate situations. If this one goes south, there's no telling where he'll end up next. Maybe I should just leave Cas alone. Act like nothing ever happened and forget about it._ “You've got a point. I think I'm just gonna back off—”

“Yeah, you'd better back off! I already have a boyfriend,” Charlie announced loudly, jumping to her feet and snatching her bag from the floor.

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “What? What are you talk—”

“Sorry,” Charlie said, shooting Sam a meaningful look. She quickly spun on her heels and walked away, disappearing into the crowd of shoppers.

Sam let out a breath. _What the hell was that?_ In the next moment he felt a light touch on his shoulder and somehow knew without turning around the reason for Charlie’s abrupt and strange departure. He glanced over his shoulder at Castiel who was looking down at him with an expression twice as confused as the one he’d given Dean outside of Victoria’s Secret. _Thanks Charlie. Like this wasn't already complicated enough._ Sam turned all the way around, glancing back in the direction of the store for Dean. “Did you guys have any luck?”

Castiel shrugged and walked around to the opposite side of the table. “I only offered my opinion on a few styles that he selected. Once he broached the question of sizing, I left him in the care of the store employees.” He smiled wryly. “At this rate, we should be finished around nightfall.”

Sam sighed and rolled his eyes. “Not the way I planned to spend my day. At all.”

Castiel sat down in the chair that Charlie had vacated. “How did you plan to spend your day?” he asked, studying Sam as if seeing him for the first time.

 _Oh no,_ Sam thought, feeling the pull of those magnetic eyes. _Not this shit again._ He shifted his chair slightly to the left, pretending to be engrossed in the Santa’s workshop display. “Don’t know. Just kind of hanging around the house.” He dared a brief glance at Cas before looking away again. “What about you?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Castiel said quietly.

Something in his tone caught Sam’s attention. _Uncertainty._ He turned back to Cas, his eyebrows raised.

“Sam,” Castiel began, meeting Sam’s gaze. “About yesterday, I—”

“Asshole. Asshole. Asshole. There’s an asshole trying to contact you at this very moment. You need to stop whatever you’re doing and seek immediate shelter—”

Sam’s face reddened as the crude ringtone he’d assigned to Dean blared from within his pocket. He hastily fumbled the phone free, ignoring the shocked looks from passersby. He answered it mid-air before even bringing it fully to his ear, just wanting to stop the ringtone. “What?”

“Where the hell are you?” Dean’s voice asked. “I can’t find Cas either. Are you two together?”

Sam’s face reddened again. _I fucking wish._ He cleared his throat and looked across the table at Castiel who was now staring off into the crowd. “He’s here. We’re in front of the bubble tea stand.”

“Gross,” Dean replied. “I’ll be right there.”

“Okay,” Sam said, and hung up the phone. He sat for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. Cas still hadn’t looked back at him, and Sam was hesitant to speak first. The fact that Cas hadn’t even said anything about his incredibly vulgar ringtone meant that his mind was clearly occupied by more important matters. _He was getting ready to say something about yesterday._ Sam wasn’t even sure that he wanted to hear it at this point. _I said I was gonna forget about it._ He sighed and stood up. “That was Dean. He’s looking for us.”

“Of course,” Castiel replied lightly. He rose to his feet and turned to face Sam. “We’d better not keep him waiting, unless you want to be eating fast food for breakfast.”

“I honestly don’t care,” Sam replied, stifling a yawn. “I am so ready to leave right now.” He paused, brows furrowed at what he thought he saw was a look of intense disappointment on Cas’ face. “But a deal is a deal,” he continued, giving Cas a sideways glance. “And he owes us food. I’m not about to let him weasel out of it.” He looked up and saw Dean heading towards them with at least three pink striped bags. _Those employees ate him alive._ “A fool and his money,” Sam quipped.

“Just as long as it is in fact, his money,” Castiel replied, eying Dean warily.

“Before you ask,” Dean said, not missing the skeptical look that Cas was giving him. “No, this isn’t the rent money. Like I said, I’ve been saving up.” He waved for them to follow him. “Don’t worry, I’ll have your cash on the first, as usual.”

“What would happen, theoretically,” Sam said, walking just a bit behind his brother. “If Dean didn’t have the rent money one time?”

“I’d change the locks and sell all of his belongings on craigslist,” Castiel replied cheerfully.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Bullshit. You’d miss having me around too much. All the in-house eye candy I provide, I could probably skip three months without paying if I wanted to.”

“I’ll admit that you’re nice to look at,” Castiel agreed. “But not as nice as my bank statement.” He gave Sam a knowing glance. “And now that you’ve achieved your goal of abject retail subjugation, Sam and I were wondering which fine dining establishment you were going to treat us to for breakfast.”

Dean gave a single laugh. “I was kind of hoping that the two of you were too tired to remember that. No luck, huh?” A pair of silent glares informed him that they had not, in fact, forgotten his promise of a free meal. He raised his hands. “Alright, fine. But you both just saw me drop a pretty hefty chunk of change, so I’m going to need you two to kind of manage your expectations.” He raised his eyebrow. “Especially you Cas. No filet mignon and quail eggs, or whatever you were planning to eat.”

Castiel sighed and glanced wryly at Sam. “So much for shooting for the stars.” He turned back to Dean. “What did you have in mind?”

 

“Only Dean would come to a mall full of restaurants, and still eat in a damn diner,” Sam mumbled, sliding into his side of the booth. He quickly scooted as far to the end as he could, on the off chance that Cas decided to sit next to him. _As long as I don’t touch him, I’m good._

“Hey, give me a break,” Dean said defensively, sitting across from his brother. “Other than the food court, it’s the only place here without an hour-long wait. Besides, I promised you breakfast, right? No better place for breakfast than a diner.”

Castiel slid in beside Sam, studying the red vinyl with some interest. “Would I sound terribly out of touch if I said that I’ve never actually eaten in a diner before?”

Dean gave Castiel a dry look. “Why not? Afraid you’ll get tetanus?”

“No,” Sam assured Cas. “You’re not missing much. Just greasy food and annoying oldies music.” He inclined his head, listening. “No wait, I was wrong. It’s actually annoying Christmas music. Much better.”

“Cool it with the war on Christmas,” Dean admonished. “It’s the most wonderful time of the year, alright?” He waved at the menus on the table top. “Anyway, hurry up and decide what you want to eat. I already know what I’m getting.” He rubbed his hands together.

Sam opened his menu and gave it a cursory glance. “Yeah, me too.” He turned to Castiel who was studying his menu as though all the secrets of the universe lay contained within. “See anything you like?”

“I can feel my blood pressure rising just from looking at some of the pictures,” Castiel remarked.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Oh come on. Don’t pull this exotic diet crap. I’ve seen you scraping McDonalds fries from the bottom of a paper bag and dipping them into your McFlurry like a maniac, and you know damn well they never clean that ice cream machine!” He pointed. “So quit whining and pick something.”

Castiel turned to Sam. “He’s got me there. I do have a certain weakness for the golden arches.”

“Great,” Sam replied, tossing his menu on the table. “Let’s just go to McDonalds then.”

“We are not going to McDonalds!” Dean pointed at Sam. “I didn’t get on a plane and fly nine hours so that I could eat at—” He stopped mid-lecture as he realized that their server had arrived and was watching them with great interest. “Hello there.”

“Good morning,” their server said. He was a tall, dark-haired young man, who appeared to be in his early twenties. He smiled at them, his eyes charming and friendly. “How are you gentleman doing today?”

Alarm bells went off in Sam’s brain as he remembered what Cas had said about the type of guy he usually went for. _Talk, check. Dark, check. Handsome…_ As much as he hated to admit it, this guy was definitely handsome in a rugged, yet sensitive way. _He looks like he volunteers at animal shelters and builds homes for the needy on the weekends._ He forced himself to relax. _This is Lawrence. The odds of this guy being gay are a hundred to one._

“Wonderful,” Dean replied. “My friends and I were just talking about how much we’re looking forward to our meal.”

“I’ve never eaten in a diner before,” Castiel explained to the server in a confidential tone.

“Really?” the server laughed. “Well, I’ll just have to make sure that I leave you with a good impression then.” He smiled. “The first time should always be enjoyable.” 

Sam’s eyes narrowed. _What the fuck?!_ He didn’t want to come across as paranoid, but he was fairly certain that he’d detected a hint of interest in their server’s tone. He glanced discreetly at Dean who was very deliberately looking elsewhere. _Huh. So I’m not imagining it._

Castiel laughed. “I won’t disagree with you on that.” He turned his menu towards their server. “I’m interested in some of the healthier options. What would you recommend?”

The server leaned against the side of the booth, his shoulder just barely brushing Castiel’s as they looked at the menu. “Hmm…”

Sam shot another glance at his brother, who was still studiously avoiding making eye contact.

“The spinach and egg white omelet,” the server suggested. “It comes with a side of turkey bacon and either fresh fruit or steel cut oatmeal.”

Castiel considered. “Can I substitute French fries in place of the fruit?”

The server laughed again. “An interesting request, but I don’t see why not.” He smiled at Castiel, his eyes sparkling. “I’ll have the cook make the change.”

“I’ll have the three egg combo,” Dean cut in, still looking off into the distance. “Scrambled, with regular bacon and sausage. Also I’ll take a side of hash browns and a side of grits.”

The server stood up straight and began writing in his notepad. “Got it. Did you want cheese on your grits?”

Dean wrinkled his nose, finally turning back to look at their server. “The hell do I look like? Where I come from, butter is enough.” He shook his head. “Cheese on grits… Madness.”

“I’ll have the cinnamon swirl French toast,” Sam announced, doing his best to remain civil. “And a glass of orange juice.”

“That’s all?” Castiel asked, looking surprised.

“It’s quite a large portion,” the server explained. “And if the young man decides he wants something else later on, I can always add it to the ticket.”

Sam slowly turned towards their server, his expression thunderous.

“Yeah, not trying to rush,” Dean said hurriedly. “But could you go ahead and get that started? We’ve been up for a while and we’re all pretty hungry.” He glanced at Sam. “And cranky.”

“Of course,” the server said, flipping his book closed. “My name is Abner, by the way.” He gave Castiel another smile before walking off.

“What a prick,” Sam mumbled under his breath. He could feel Cas’ eyes on him, but he didn’t trust himself to keep his mouth shut, so he just focused his attention on the kitschy table top décor. He let the background music drown out the sounds of conversation, trying not to seethe noticeably. _Okay, so I was wrong. The odds were definitely not in my favor, but so what._ He knew he had no right to take offense at the server flirting with Cas. Cas was a free agent, he didn’t belong to anyone, and he was on break just like the rest of them. It was only natural that he might start to feel bored of hanging around the house with Dean’s family, especially with how much Dean had been ditching him to go spend time with Lisa. If Cas finally decided that he wanted to go entertain himself elsewhere, who was Sam to say otherwise.

“Earth to Sam,” Dean said, tapping Sam on the hand.

Sam blinked, startled. He glanced up at his brother. “What?”

“I was saying, I’m taking Lisa to the movies once we’re done here,” Dean said. “If you want to tag along, I’ll pay for your ticket, as long as you don’t try to sit next to us.”

Sam shook his head. “No thanks. All I want to do is go back to sleep. You guys enjoy the movie.” He glanced at Cas. “Sorry.”

Castiel scoffed. “No need to apologize. I certainly wasn’t going.” He rolled his eyes. “Hello Lisa, I’m your boyfriend’s roommate. I occasionally check him out whenever he has the lack of etiquette to strut around my condo in his boxers in the middle of the day, but I’m sure that we’ll be great friends.”

“Do I actually strut?” Dean asked, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Really?” 

Sam laughed, his mood lightening somewhat. “Yeah, I can see your point.” He saw their server approaching with the food and his mood went right back down. _And here we go again._

“Everything looks great,” Dean said cheerfully, as the plates were passed around. “Just like I remembered.”

Sam mumbled out a tense thanks as he received his French toast and orange juice. He didn’t have to look up to know that their server was gazing adoringly at Cas. He could hear the fawning in his voice. _Have some pride,_ he thought, rolling his eyes. 

“Let me know if you gentlemen need anything else,” Abner said. He gave Castiel a meaningful glance. “And I do mean anything.”

 _And I do mean anything,_ Sam thought, rolling his eyes again. He shook his head and began cutting into his French toast, using a bit more force than perhaps was necessary.

“Maybe Sam and I ought to get out of here and give you some privacy,” Dean said, once their server was completely out of earshot.

Castiel raised an eyebrow, looking up from his omelet. “And why on earth would you do that?”

Dean gestured towards the server. “You know. So the two of you can get better acquainted.”

Castiel set his utensils on the plate. He folded his hands on the tabletop and gazed placidly at Dean.

 _Uh oh,_ thought Sam, still sawing into his toast.

“Why do you think I want to get better acquainted with our server?” Castiel asked.

Dean shrugged. “You know.”

Sam grimaced. _Even if we were both thinking it, you’re still not supposed to say it._

Castiel continued staring at Dean in the same way, his voice just as mild as if discussing the weather. “I don’t know. Please,” he said, turning over one of his palms. “Enlighten me.”

Dean finally started to pick up on what Cas was getting at. “Don’t be that way. I’m just saying that you’re both gay.”

“Yes,” Castiel nodded. “So it seems.” He leaned forward. “My question to you is, do you think that because we both happen to be gay, that we are going to get together? Simply because we’re gay?”

Dean shrugged again, still not getting why Cas was giving him such a hard time. “I don’t know. I guess?”

Sam placed a hand over his own face.

Castiel smiled at Dean. “Alright. Fair enough.” He sat back in the booth and lifted his glass. “Do me a favor, and turn to your left a bit.”

Dean glanced at the table full of apparent grandmothers. “Okay… what am I looking at?”

“Your secret admirers,” Castiel replied. “Since we’ve been here, you have been ogled by no less than ten women. Now since you all happen to be straight, my next question for you is, what time does the orgy begin? Given your history, shall we say, within the next five minutes?”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. _Damn Cas. Right for the jugular._ He reached for his glass.

Dean blanched. “You’re joking right? I’m not attracted to them!”

“What a novel concept,” Castiel replied, eyes wide in feigned awe. “The idea of mutual interest.” He sighed wistfully. “Oh, if only us gays had something like that. Alas, we are compelled to climb aboard every dick we see, so long as it’s attached to another gay man.” He leaned his head to the side. “I suppose that’s why so many of us make the holy pilgrimage to San Francisco, a veritable mountain of dicks to climb. It’s our Mt. Everest.”

Sam choked on his juice. 

“That’s not what I meant,” Dean hissed, his face red. “No one said anything about climbing on dicks!” He lowered his voice, taking note of the odd looks their booth was receiving. “I just meant, that maybe you might want to get to know one another, that’s all.”

Castiel gave Dean a wry look. “We’re flying back on Sunday. Today is Friday.” He leaned his head to the side again. “Doesn’t exactly leave a ton of time to build a relationship, does it?”

Dean put his hands up. “Okay. I get it. Point taken. I’m sorry.” He sighed. “I shouldn’t have assumed that just because you’re both gay that you’d want to hook up.” He snickered. “Although, all you had to do was say you don’t find him attractive.”

“I do find him attractive,” Castiel replied, glancing at the server. “Very much so.”

Sam bristled.

“But, that still doesn’t mean I want to hook up with him,” Castiel continued, returning his attention to Dean. “I can admire and appreciate physical attractiveness in its own right, without wanting to take it any further.” He smirked. “Now there’s a concept the average heterosexual male seems to struggle with.”

Dean cringed. “Yeah, you got me there.”

 _Well that was a wild ride from start to finish._ Sam pushed his plate away, having had more than enough for one morning. “Sorry to make you get up Cas,” he said, “But I need to go to the bathroom.”

“It’s alright,” Castiel said, scooting out of the booth. “I should’ve asked if you wanted to sit on the outside.”

“It’s not like he gave you a chance,” Dean muttered. “He practically dove into the booth like he was running from bullets.”

Sam shot Dean a glare as he began sliding across the seat. He stood up and accidentally brushed against Cas who hadn’t stepped back quite far enough. “Sorry,” he mumbled, warmth creeping up his skin.

“Don’t worry about it,” Castiel said. “I’ll stay on the inside this time.”

Sam gave a tense nod and made his way to the bathroom. He had just finished up and was in the process of washing his hands when their server walked in. He rolled his eyes and focused on his own reflection in the mirror.

“How’s everything?” Abner asked in such a genuinely friendly way that Sam couldn’t stay mad at him.

Sam nodded. “Everything is great.”

“Wonderful,” Abner replied. He cleared his throat. “I was wondering, your friend with the dark hair…” He shifted. “Is he single?”

 _Nope. Still mad._ Sam finished washing his hands and turned the faucet off. 

“He is gay, isn’t he?” Abner pressed.

Sam tried not to scowl as he snatched a handful of paper towels from the dispenser. “He is,” he said grudgingly.

“Do you think it would be alright if I wrote my number on the check?” Abner asked.

Sam considered and weighed the various courses of action from passive aggressive to outwardly hostile. _Fuck it. Just lie._ “He’s not single,” he replied. “He’s taken.”

“Really?” Abner said, his expression one of utter disappointment. He shook his head. “I thought for sure the other guy with you was straight. I mean, just look at the way he’s dressed.” He sighed wistfully. “Oh well. What a gorgeous couple.”

“He is straight,” Sam replied, rolling his eyes. “That’s my brother.”

Abner raised his eyebrows. “Then, you don’t expect me to believe that he’s with… you?”

Sam glared at the server. “And why do you find that so hard to believe, huh?”

“How old are you?” Abner asked.

“Old enough,” Sam shot back. 

“Right,” Abner said, obviously skeptical. He shook his head and walked into a stall.

Sam resisted the urge to turn off all the lights on his way out of the bathroom. Instead he walked calmly back to their table. Castiel was already on the inside of their seat, and Sam slid in beside him quietly.

“What’d you do?” Dean asked. “Fall in?”

Sam took a breath and remained silent.

“Sheesh,” Dean muttered. “Tough crowd.”

“Everything alright?” Castiel asked, giving Sam a concerned look.

“I’m fine,” Sam replied levelly. “I’m just tired. When are we leaving?”

“As soon as the dude comes back with the check,” Dean said. “I’m ready to roll.”

“Yeah, me too,” Sam sighed. He glanced around and saw their server standing by the computer. “There he is.”

“About damn time,” Dean muttered, digging out his wallet. He glanced at Castiel and Sam. “I know that I said I was paying, but you two could at least pretend to reach for your wallets.”

Sam snorted. “I didn’t even bring my wallet.”

Castiel laughed. “Your generosity is greatly appreciated Dean. I wouldn’t want to cheapen the gesture by attempting to pay.”

Dean rolled his eyes and waved for the server.

As their server approached, Sam moved. With a level of smoothness that impressed even him, he managed to slide his arm around Cas’ shoulder as though it belonged there. He felt Cas stiffen against him momentarily in surprise, but he didn’t make any move to pull away. Sam had no doubt that if he turned to look, those blue eyes would be burning a hole through him, maybe even giving him the dreaded death stare, but right now he was more focused on the look on their server’s face.

“What’s my damage?” Dean asked, looking over the check. He sighed with relief. “Alright. I can live with that. He counted out three twenties and handed the check and tray back to the server. “You’ve been great man. Keep the change.”

“Thank you,” Abner replied politely, his eyes on Sam. “I hope all of you have a great day.”

Sam just barely managed to keep from smirking. “You too.”

As soon as their server walked away, Sam dared to turn and sneak a glance at Castiel. _So much for keeping my hands to myself._

Castiel was staring at him with an unreadable expression.

“Well?” Dean cut in. He was already standing. He gestured impatiently. “Your nap time awaits. Or did you get your second wind?”

“Definitely not,” Sam answered. He dropped his arm from Cas’ shoulder and slid out of the booth, his pulse racing. _Is he pissed? I can’t tell if he’s pissed. Please don’t let him be pissed at me._

“Well, well,” Dean remarked, as they walked back to the car. “Looks like our server wrote his number on the check. Bold move, let’s see if it pays off.” He handed the receipt to Cas.

Castiel crumpled it up and dropped it in a trashcan as they passed by.

“Guess not,” Dean quipped. “About that, sorry for what I said back there. I wasn’t trying to piss you off.”

“I’m not pissed,” Castiel replied. “Abner was very nice and very attractive.” He sighed. “But I didn’t fly nine hours just to hook up with some random guy. If I wanted to do that, I could’ve stayed in LA.”

Sam sighed with relief. 

Leaving the mall parking lot was far easier than entering it had been. Sam was able to doze lightly during the drive back home, and when Dean told him to get out, he thought he had never felt so happy to be dropped off in front of his house before. He fumbled with the keys a few times before he was able to get the door open, and held it politely for Castiel.

Mary came out of the craft room as she heard the front door close. “You guys are back early. I take it you had a successful shopping trip?”

“Dean did,” Sam mumbled, trudging across the living room.

“Hey,” Mary called. “Where are you going?”

“To bed,” Sam grumbled, heading up the stairs.

Mary paused at the base of the staircase. “You're supposed to set up the tree today, remember? I wanted to take some pictures of it tonight so we could have time to get it on our Christmas cards this year.”

“But I’m exhausted,” Sam groaned. “Dean woke me up at like four in the morning! Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

“John and I have plans tomorrow,” Mary explained. “Please?”

Sam grumbled and pressed his face against the wall.

“I’ll help you set up the tree,” Castiel offered.

Mary smiled at Cas. “That’s really sweet of you. Thank you Castiel.” She raised her eyebrow. “It’s nice that some people are feeling the Christmas spirit.”

“Thanksgiving was just yesterday,” Sam groaned, still pressed against the wall. “Give me a break.”

“It’s tradition,” Mary replied. “Don’t worry about it, kiddo. You go to bed. Castiel and I can take it from here.” She blinked. “Actually, don’t go to bed just yet. We do need you to get it down from the attic. Then you can go to bed.”

Sam thumped his head against the wall and gave a muffled sound of protest. “Fine,” he huffed, pushing away from the wall. “I’ll get it from the attic, but that’s it. After that, I’m going to sleep.” He stomped the rest of the way up the stairs, shaking his head.

“Thank you,” Mary said warmly. She turned to Castiel. “You should go with him. It’s a large tree.”

Castiel followed Sam up the stairs and down the hall.

Standing at the end of the hallway, Sam reached up and grabbed onto the pull cord that brought down the attic stairs. As the movement lifted his shirt several inches up his back, he heard the slightest intake of breath from behind him. He glanced sleepily back over his shoulder at Cas. “Mom sent you to help?”

Castiel nodded, not looking directly at Sam. “She said that it was a large tree.”

Sam yawned. “Yep. Nine feet.” He turned back to the ladder. “I’m just glad they bought one that’s already pre-lit.” He began climbing up into the attic.

Castiel paused at the bottom of the attic stairs. “Do you need me to come up?”

“Nah,” Sam called back. “I got it. Just be there when I bring it down so it doesn’t knock a hole in the wall again.”

“Again?” Castiel turned to look at the hallway. Sure enough, he found a pretty well covered spot where something large had made its way through and then been patched over. “Wow.”

“Incoming,” called Sam, leaning over to hand down a large plastic tote.

“What’s this?” Castiel asked, taking the tote.

“Ornaments,” Sam replied with a strange look. “Haven’t you ever put up a tree before?”

“No,” Castiel answered. “I told you, my mother hires people to do that. I’ve never even touched an artificial Christmas tree. I’m rather curious to find out what it feels like.”

 _Right._ “Sorry,” Sam said. He ducked back out of sight.

Another tote soon followed, and then an enormous black storage bag. 

“Are you sure that’s not a body?” Castiel asked, eyeing the bag warily as Sam lowered it down.

“Not unless someone murdered a giant,” Sam replied. Working very carefully, the two of them transported the totes and Christmas tree bag down to the living room. “Where do you want it?” Sam called towards the craft room.

Mary came back into the living room, zipping up her coat. “The usual spot is fine. Right in front of the bay window.” She sighed. “Actually, I have to run. I just got a last minute text from the community center. Jody needs me to fill in for her women’s self defense class.” She gave Castiel a sheepish grin. “Would you mind getting started without me?”

“Not at all,” Castiel replied smiling. “I’m looking forward to the experience.”

 _Yeah… can’t relate._ Sam pushed the totes over into the space beside the window and dragged the tree bag beside the totes. He stood up and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, good night and good luck.” He yawned, and headed for the stairs. “See you at dinner.”

“Enjoy your nap,” Castiel said amicably.

 _Finally!_ Sam burrowed down into his blankets, sighing as he began to relax. _Wait a minute…_ He had been too disgruntled to really register it at the time, but he was pretty sure that when he had been reaching up to open the attic, he’d busted Cas checking him out. The expression on his face had certainly looked like someone who’d just been caught in the act. Sam sat upright, his tiredness forgotten. _That means I might actually have a shot, Dean be damned._

Castiel looked up from where he was sitting on the floor beside the tree bag, as Sam came right back down the stairs. “Forget something?” he asked.

Sam knelt down next to Cas. “I realized that since you’ve never put up a tree before, it would be pretty messed up for me to make you do it by yourself.”

Castiel smirked. “I’m fairly certain I could’ve figured it out. It can’t be any more complicated than physiology.”

“The anatomy of a tree,” Sam quipped. He flipped the lid off one of the totes. “First you start with a skirt.”

Castiel leaned his head to the side. He watched as Sam laid a large circle of deep red velvet onto the hardwood floor and began smoothing it out. “So, your tree is a girl?” He chuckled. “How very peculiar.”

“Hey, you try putting pants on a nine foot tree,” Sam said. “See how far you get.” He turned and motioned for Cas to open the tree bag. “Go on and unzip the bag. It’s good practice. Just pretend it’s a body bag.”

Castiel chuckled again. “I’m hoping that I won’t be handling too many of those during my career. I want to save people, not kill them.” He opened the bag and stared down at the conglomeration of dark green limbs. “It’s all in pieces!”

Sam laughed. “How did you think it was going to look? All one part, and we just fluff it up?” He shook his head. “Nope. Five interlocking parts. You still have to fluff it though.”

Castiel’s lips twitched.

“What?” Sam asked.

“Nothing,” Castiel replied. He reached into the bag and pulled out a bundle of greenery. “It feels softer than I expected. Not as bristly.” 

“I guess,” Sam shrugged. “That’s a middle piece. You need to find the bottom. Can’t do anything without that.”

“Fair point,” Castiel said, his lips twitching again. He set the middle piece aside and rustled through the bag until he found the metal base. 

“That’s it,” Sam confirmed. “Set it up on the skirt, but be careful. It’ll clamp the living shit out of you if you don’t watch your fingers while you’re opening it up.”

Castiel continued to snicker periodically throughout the assembly of the tree. Sam didn’t think much of it if a certain phrase or word caused his guest to laugh quietly to himself. He was just glad that Cas seemed to be having a good time doing something that he considered to be pretty mundane. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d been excited to do this, but Castiel’s energy was infectious. 

Once they had four sections of the tree sufficiently fluffed and all wires connected, Castiel glanced at the top piece. “You’re going to have to take it from here.”

“Well duh,” Sam replied. “I’ve been putting the top on since I was sixteen. I’m the only one tall enough to do it.”

“How tall are you anyway?” Castiel asked, watching as Sam bent over to pick up the top piece.

“6’4,” Sam replied, lifting the tree top. He set the stem into the center pole, twisting until it locked into place. Then he connected the wires and started fluffing out the branches. Even he had to reach and stand on his toes to get the higher points. Remembering what he thought he’d heard earlier, he snuck a glance at Cas’ reflection in the window. He was watching him intently, and ever so slightly biting his lip.

Sam turned around, but Cas had already moved over to the totes. _Dammit._

Castiel opened the second tote, staring at the ornaments.

“You know,” Sam said, switching tactics. “It’s kind of messed up that Dean brought you here and bailed on you most of the time. You’re supposed to be his guest.”

Castiel laughed. “I don’t mind. After living with your brother for a while, I appreciate the time apart.” He turned to Sam. “But don’t get me wrong, as far as roommates go, Dean is great.”

“Why even have a roommate at all?” Sam asked. “I thought you could afford to live on your own.”

“I can,” Castiel replied. “But I like having someone to talk to. The condo feels less lonely with someone else around. It’s also nice not having to do all the cooking.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. He wasn’t sure what surprised him most, the fact that Dean cooked or the fact that someone was brave enough to eat it. “You actually let him cook food?”

Castiel laughed again. “Yes. He makes a lot of spaghetti. Also burgers and occasionally tacos.”

Sam nodded. “Ah. Those are all pretty hard meals to screw up.” He yawned, his lack of sleep finally beginning to catch up with him.

“You’re not about to bail on me too, are you?” Castiel teased.

Sam shook his head. “Not until we get the rest of this crap on the tree. After that, you’re on your own.”

Bit by bit, they decorated the tree. Sam helped Castiel with the garland after some deliberation over which one to use. In the end they settled on a strand of silver beads, Cas watching to make sure Sam placed the loops evenly. By the time they got to the ornaments, Sam’s approach of simply stuffing them randomly onto the branches was being met with heavy resistance.

“You can’t put two snowflakes right next to each other,” Castiel chastised. “They need to be evenly spaced.” He squinted at a branch overhead. “And did you just hang three icicles onto one limb?”

“Oh, did I?” Sam flopped down on the couch, finally losing his battle with wakefulness. He immediately sprawled out, stretching the entire length of the sofa with a yawn. “I’m just gonna rest here for a bit, while you continue with whatever it is you’re doing.”

Castiel gave Sam a wry look. “I’m supposed to be the guest here, and you make me finish your tree. Real nice Sam.”

Sam shrugged, closing his eyes. “It looks pretty finished to me. It’s great. Amazing really.”

Castiel scoffed. “How can you tell? Your eyes aren’t even open.”

“Because,” Sam mumbled. “I trust you.” He had almost fallen asleep when he felt the couch sink down a bit further. He cracked open one eye to see Cas sitting next to him and looking down at him with the same unreadable expression he’d worn in the diner when Sam had put his arm around him. “What?” he asked, his voice low.

Castiel stared at him for a moment. “Scoot over,” he said finally. “I could use a break too.”

Sam scrunched against the back cushions, making room for Cas. As tired as he was, his brain was having a hard time processing what was happening. Only once Cas was stretched out beside him, his back against his chest, did he finally begin to understand. He wrapped both arms around Cas and pulled him in tight, sleepiness making them both loose and pliant. The breathy sigh that Cas gave upon being held was almost enough to push Sam’s thoughts in a different direction. But right now he was content to simply hold him and let the sleep come and bring with it what dreams it may.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam's ringtone actually exists. I heard it once in public, and I had to ask the person where the heck they got it. It's in the iTunes downloads app, and it is hilarious! 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Only two chapters left to go!


	6. Saturday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam finally decides to put all of his advice about Cas to good use.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember my warning that the story rating would change? Well, it's going **down** folks. The new explicit rating is pretty well-earned, if I do say so myself. If you prefer to stick to the sweeter, fluffier story line, then make sure you bail at the first sign of overt sexiness and skip all the way to the end of the chapter.
> 
> Additional note: It has come to my attention that the sex scene can be potentially interpreted as coercive. While that definitely was not my intent (I was aiming more towards inexperienced seduction, and apparently missed the mark), I just want to be mindful that it might make some readers uncomfortable. If so, then please skip, as I do not wish to cause anyone distress.
> 
> As always any and all feedback (whether kudos or reviews) is greatly appreciated!

_A month and a half,_ Sam thought, staring at the impossibly majestic Christmas tree. It was like something out of a design showcase. Even his dad, who barely noticed things like that, had admitted that it was the best their tree had ever looked. Soon it would be mailed to friends and distant relations, immortalized in ink and photo paper. If that were all, Sam could’ve handled it, but the tradition was to leave it standing until New Year’s Day. That meant that every day from now until then Sam would have to pass by the tree that he and Castiel had put up.

Yesterday evening, Sam had experienced yet another rude awakening, being startled from his nap by a camera flash. His initial reaction had been one of intense horror, vaguely recalling how he had fallen asleep with Cas in his arms. Only once he realized that he was alone on the sofa and the camera belonged to his mom and not his brother, did his heart cease its attempts to burst free of his chest.

Mary had been laughingly apologetic, explaining that she couldn’t resist taking his picture when he looked so peaceful. She had jokingly offered to put him on the Christmas cards instead, except that Castiel had done such a fantastic job with the tree.

Sam had breathed a sigh of relief at that and sat up slowly, taking in the scene around him. His mom was right, Castiel’s finished version of their tree looked far better than any of Sam’s previous attempts. Cas definitely had an eye for color and composition that Sam lacked, and for a moment he was able to appreciate the result of their combined efforts.

When his eyes finally did land on Castiel, seated in the recliner, Sam could instinctively tell that his guard was up again. Whatever weakness that had allowed them their moment on the couch was carefully hidden away, and Sam just didn’t have the energy to attempt to unravel the mystery that was his brother’s roommate.

Then his mom had turned on the Christmas music, which Sam endured, not missing the guilty glances Cas had aimed in his direction as he listened with polite but genuine enjoyment. But when his mom had brought out the eggnog, Sam decided to call it a night. There was no way that he could stick around for that without his mind making indecent connections, so he politely declined the invitation to watch holiday movies and went to his own room for the remainder of the evening.

His sleep that night had been plagued with dreams of Cas. In one he was riding along the California coast in Cas’ car. In another they were walking hand in hand through the campus. In the worst, they were in the guest bedroom, and the activities they were engaged in had left him unspeakably frustrated upon awakening.

And now here he was on Saturday afternoon, staring at the shining holiday beacon of sexual frustration and unrequited affection. As beautiful as the tree was, Sam couldn’t glance at it for more than a few seconds without thinking about the looks that Cas had been giving him while they set it up, or the natural ease with which they had worked, as though they had known each other for years. Most distracting of all was the memory of how it had felt having Cas beside him afterward. His warmth, his scent, and the way that he had melted into Sam, fitting against his body as though he were made for him.

Sam realized he was staring down the barrel of a month and a half of intrusive thoughts and remembered sensations, and he finally understood why Cas had needed to go get some fresh air.

As badly as he wanted to call Charlie, Sam knew that this was something that he had to figure out for himself. If Cas were anyone else, just a guy at his school, he would’ve handled it by now. He’d check to see if he was into him, which he was certain now that Cas was. Then he’d ask him to hang out so they could get to know each other better, but with less than twenty four hours to go, Sam didn’t have the luxury of a slow courtship.

Sam needed to get him alone, away from Dean and the rest of his family so that he could finally tell him how he felt. _Easier said, than done._ He thought back to his ex, rolling his eyes. _At least with Brady we had the cover of sports for an excuse… Wait, what was it Cas said about sports…_ Sam’s head snapped up, a plan forming in his mind.

Dean was in the kitchen, just having finished a turkey sandwich when Sam walked in. He seemed to be deeply engrossed in the newspaper, although Sam doubted there was anything of interest.

“Hey,” Sam said.

“Hey yourself,” Dean replied, still looking at the newspaper.

Sam leaned on the kitchen counter. “Any big plans tonight?”

“I have some plans,” Dean answered, turning the page.

“With Lisa?” Sam asked.

“Yes, with Lisa,” Dean said. He glanced up at his brother. “Why?”

“No reason,” Sam replied. “Just had something I was wondering. That’s all.” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to ask you a favor.”

Dean set his paper on the counter. “You would pick my last night in town,” he sighed. “Spit it out.”

Sam swallowed. “Can you drop me and Cas off downtown on your way to Lisa’s?”

“Why?” Dean asked, looking confused.

“I wanted to show him around town,” Sam replied.

Dean scoffed. “That’ll be a short trip. The sights and sounds of Lawrence, Kansas.” He shrugged. “Sure, I’ll drop you off. How are you gonna get back though?”

Sam realized he hadn’t actually thought that far ahead. “We can take the bus,” he suggested.

Dean laughed. “I wouldn’t bet on it. Cas will pay for a limo before he sets foot on public transportation.” He leaned in conversationally. “He actually paid to upgrade our return tickets to first class because he couldn’t stomach the idea of flying coach again.” He pointed. “Don’t tell Mom and Dad about that.”

Sam shook his head. “I won’t.” He gave Dean a hopeful look. “So you’ll definitely drop us off?”

“Yeah, I said I would, didn’t I?” Dean shrugged again. “It’s no problem. I’m due at Lisa’s around eight, so I’ll just drop you guys around seven-thirty.”

“Thank you,” Sam said with sincerity.

“You’re welcome,” Dean said, eying his brother strangely. “You really need to get out of the house more. It’s just downtown Lawrence. I should bring you out to LA sometime. It would blow your mind.”

“I just might take you up on that,” Sam replied. _Depending on how things go tonight._

“That’s not much of a favor, by the way,” Dean said. “I would’ve dropped you off anyway.”

“Really?” Sam asked. _Should've asked to borrow some cash._ “So then I could ask for something else—”

“Too late,” Dean cut in, raising his newspaper. “The deal has been struck. Now go in peace.”

 _Oh well,_ Sam thought, as he left the kitchen. _I got what I needed most. Now I just have to ask Cas to go out and hope that he says yes._ Sam knocked on the door frame to the guest bedroom, hoping his face didn’t give away any of the nervousness that he was feeling.

Castiel looked up from his book. As soon as he saw that it was Sam, he placed his book on the dresser and folded his arms across his chest. “Hello.”

“Hey,” Sam replied, not missing Cas' body language. He took a breath. _Here goes nothing._ “I was wondering, if you wanted to go see downtown Lawrence tonight.”

Castiel blinked. “I was under the impression that there wasn’t much to do there, aside from shopping.”

“There isn’t,” Sam admitted. “Actually…” He averted his eyes. “I was thinking, maybe, if you weren’t completely against it, that we could stop by the ice skating rink.”

Castiel stared at Sam.

Sam tried his best not to fidget under the scrutiny of those blue eyes.

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “You’re telling me that you actually want to go ice skating?”

“I guess,” Sam replied. “Only, don’t say anything about it to Dean. He’d never let me live it down.”

Castiel’s gaze softened. “Of course not.” He sat up. “Sure, I’ll go with you. What time were you thinking?”

“Dean said he’d drop us off around seven-thirty,” Sam replied.

“Okay,” Castiel agreed. “And how will we get back?”

“The bus?” Sam offered.

Castiel shook his head. “Absolutely not. I’m buying an Uber. Don’t worry about it.”

“So you’ll go?” Sam asked, his pulse racing.

“Yes,” Castiel replied. “I didn’t dislike ice skating, I just didn’t want to pursue it as a career. It’s still a fair amount of fun.” He gave Sam a smirk. “You do have health insurance, right?”

“Of course,” Sam answered. “I play basketball, remember?”

“I remember,” Castiel said.

Sam ran a hand through his hair. “Okay. Then I’ll see you later on tonight. Enjoy your book.”

Castiel nodded. “Alright.”

 

Sam couldn’t think of a single time in his life when he had felt this nervous. He had expected the rest of the day to drag by as his anticipation for tonight grew. Instead the hours flew, leaving him with a sense of being grossly unprepared. By the time he had showered, dressed and made his way downstairs, he was so wrecked that he considering faking a headache and calling the entire thing off. They could stay in and watch TV or he could simply hide in his room until Cas was gone, and that would be that.

Then Castiel walked into the foyer looking as ethereal and gorgeous as ever, and Sam knew that he would see this thing through until the bitter end, no matter how badly he might embarrass himself along the way.

“Alright,” Dean said, rising from his place on the sofa. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Sam remained silent during the drive downtown. He could hear Dean telling Castiel about the potential spots where they might find something to do that wasn’t completely lame. Cas listened patiently, nodding at all the right places. He didn’t even blink when Dean made an offhand comment about there being an ice rink in the park. He just made it a point to act interested upon hearing about an independent film theater.

“I’ll drop you guys off at the theater then,” Dean offered.

Castiel glanced at Sam in the rearview mirror.

“That’s fine,” Sam said. 

Dean shuddered. “I hope you like subtitles.” He pulled the car over in front of the theater. “I plan to be at Lisa’s until around one, so if you’re still hanging out down here, which I doubt,” he scoffed, “then you can give me a ring and I’ll pick you up.” He waved a hand. “Otherwise, don’t bother me.” He pointed at Sam. “I mean it. I will not take kindly to cockblocking of any kind.”

“I got it,” Sam replied, getting out of the car. “Tell Lisa I said Hi.” He watched as his brother drove off and turned the corner. He glanced back at Castiel to see that he was studying the theater marquee. “Did you want to catch a movie instead?”

Castiel shook his head. “I’ve already seen The Neon Demon, and I don’t think you would like it.” He smiled. “How far is the park from here?”

“Right across the street,” Sam said. “Let’s go.”

The park was not very crowded, much to Sam’s relief. Most people were probably at the mall, continuing the holiday shopping that had begun yesterday in earnest. As he walked along the well lit foot path towards the ice rink, Sam tried to envision what would count as a successful date with Cas. _Technically he doesn’t know that we’re on a date. I probably should’ve told him that._ He sighed. _But then he might’ve said no._

“Are you alright?” Castiel asked, sensing Sam’s unease.

“Just a little anxious,” Sam replied honestly.

“It’s really not that difficult,” Castiel reassured him. “You’ll see.”

Sam looked up ahead as they reached the center of the park where the ice rink was set up. Like almost everywhere else it was already decorated for Christmas, but unlike the other places, it actually worked. The string lights, oversized snowflakes and frost covered pine trees surrounding the plaza, gave the impression of an actual winter wonderland. As far as first dates go, it could’ve been much worse.

Sam was glad to see that there was no line for the ticket booth. As he reached for his wallet, a hand on his arm startled him. He turned to look at Cas, his heart pounding.

“I’ve got it,” Castiel said. “Consider it a thank you for spending so much time with me so that I wouldn’t be too bored. I really appreciate it—” His words trailed off as he searched his pockets. “I can’t believe this,” he said, his face pale.

“What?” Sam asked, trying not to let his anxiety give way to full-blown panic.

“I left my wallet back at your house,” Castiel sighed. “Oh my God. I am so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Sam said, instantly relieved. _Now it’s definitely a date._ “I can pay for our tickets.” He glanced at the sign. “And our skates. And one cup of hot chocolate. No pretzel bites, though. Sorry.”

Castiel gave Sam a tiny smile. “And how are we supposed to get back now?”

Sam took a breath. “If you’re really that opposed to the bus… we can walk.” He grimaced. “It’ll take about two hours, but it’s not impossible. I’ve done it before. But it isn’t fun, most of it is uphill, and we’ll both be sore as hell for days afterward.”

Castiel laughed. “What choice do we have?”

“None really,” Sam replied, smiling.

“Okay,” Castiel agreed. “I’ll think about the bus, but I’m not promising anything.”

“Fair enough,” Sam replied. He stepped up to the counter.

After getting their tickets and their skates, Sam and Castiel sat down on a wooden bench. Sam watched as Castiel patiently demonstrated the proper way to put on the skates. He held his breath as Cas leaned over to check his laces to make sure they were tight enough. Cas gave Sam a nod of approval and for one mad instant Sam wanted to lean over and kiss him, but the fear of how Cas would react to such a forward action prevented him from doing anything. Instead he offered to treat them to a single cup of hot chocolate.

“No thank you,” Castiel replied. “I’m not cold enough for that yet.” He glanced at Sam. “But you’ll probably need it once you’ve been skating for a bit. Aren’t you going to zip your coat?”

“It’s down,” Sam explained.

Castiel leaned over and zipped up Sam’s coat, stopping just below his neck. “Your point?”

Sam stared at Cas, speechless. _I am in way over my head here._

Castiel stood up and extended his hand to Sam. “Ready to skate?”

Sam let Cas help him to his feet, trying to find his balance. He glanced down at his skates. “This is the weirdest thing I have ever felt. How the hell do people get used to this?”

Castiel laughed. “Haven’t you ever been on roller blades, at least?”

Sam shot Cas a look. “No one roller blades in Kansas. I’ve been on a skateboard, though.”

“Well this should be easy for you,” Castiel replied. “Wheels move, blades don’t. All you have to do is keep your balance, and aim your feet in the direction that you want your body to go.”

Sam followed Castiel slowly to the entrance to the ice. He could see that there were a fair amount of people present, skating in the same counter-clockwise direction. _They look like they’re having fun. How hard can it be?_ “Okay,” Sam said. “So now what?”

“You just slide one foot in front of the other,” Castiel explained. “Just like walking, except you don’t lift your feet quite as much. Also you have to pay attention to your balance. And you will fall if you lean too far to any one direction.” He laughed. “But otherwise, just like walking.”

“Sounds like a piece of cake,” Sam grumbled.

“This was your idea,” Castiel reminded him. “If you’ve changed your mind, we can do go something else.”

Sam felt the heat creeping up the back of his neck as he was fairly certain that his idea of something else and Cas’ idea of something else were probably vastly different. He swallowed. “No. I want to try this. Really.” He glanced anxiously at the ice.

Castiel gave him a tiny smile. “How about this, I’ll go first to show you what to do. I’ll take a lap around the rink, and then when I get back here, you come out and join me.”

Sam nodded hastily. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Alright,” Castiel agreed. He gave a half salute. “See you soon.”

Sam watched, still tense with apprehension as Castiel stepped out onto the ice. His fears proved unwarranted, as it immediately became obvious that he possessed genuine skill at this. Most of the other skaters were moving hesitantly or in a very simplistic fashion. Castiel had none of their awkwardness. He moved across the ice as though it belonged to him. Sam was reminded of birds in flight, gliding effortlessly through the skies. He was so fascinated by watching Castiel, that he forgot that he was actually supposed to be trying to learn how to move. By the time Castiel made it back to the entrance, Sam was even more nervous.

“Simple, right?” Castiel said.

Sam shot him a look.

“What?” Castiel asked. “We had a deal Sam. I upheld my end of the bargain. Now it’s your turn.” He gestured. “Skate out here and join me.”

Sam took a deep breath. Squaring his shoulders, he took the first step onto the ice. When his foot did not immediately fly out from under him, he tentatively took another step until he was standing fully upon the ice with both feet. He looked up at Cas.

Castiel clapped. “Congratulations. You’re now officially an ice skater.”

“I haven’t actually skated yet,” Sam said. “I’m just standing here.”

Castiel glided over to where Sam was standing and looked up at him. “Well, we have to learn how to stand before we can learn how to walk, right?”

Sam’s heart leapt as he looked back into those blue eyes. _Oh my God._ He felt warm fingers wrap around his hand and broke eye contact to see that Cas was holding onto him.

“I know this is your hometown,” Castiel said, lowering his voice confidentially. “So I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize your reputation, but if you want to hang on to me for a bit until you feel comfortable, I’m alright with that.”

Sam nodded enthusiastically. “I’d really appreciate that actually. And don’t worry about my rep.” He tentatively began to move forward. “In a few more months, I’ll be out of here.”

“Do you know where you want to go?”

“Stanford,” Sam replied immediately. “Out of all the pre-law programs I looked into, theirs is the best.” He glanced shyly at Castiel. “I’ve been meaning to ask, how is it that you and Dean ended up at the same school? I mean, your family is rich, right? You could’ve gone anywhere.”

Castiel laughed wryly. “Well I confess, at the time my sole priority was getting as far away from New York as I could.” He shook his head. “I would’ve gone to the University of Alaska if I didn’t hate the cold so much.”

“Sorry,” Sam said sheepishly. “I wouldn’t have dragged you here if I had known.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “This isn’t that kind of cold. Spend a winter in upstate New York, and you’ll see what I mean. This ice rink might as well be Miami.” He shook his head again. “In the end, I decided on UCLA, because for a party school, their pre-med program is highly impressive.” He gave Sam a wry smile. “As for your brother, I think we both know he isn’t half as stupid as he likes to pretend.”

“That still makes him pretty damn stupid in my opinion,” Sam quipped.

Castiel laughed. “You Winchesters are really something else, you know that?”

“Something good I hope,” Sam shot back.

“That remains to be seen,” Castiel replied. “Guess what?”

“What?” Sam asked.

“We just completed our first lap around the rink,” Castiel announced.

“What?!” Sam turned to look. Sure enough, they were passing the entrance. “I can’t believe it. I’m actually ice skating.” He grinned at Cas. “You’re a really good teacher.”

“I try my best,” Castiel said, lifting his chin. He gave Sam a rakish wink.

“Show me a trick,” Sam suggested playfully.

Castiel sighed and dropped his head. “I should’ve known you had an ulterior motive for bringing me here. And there it is.” He gave Sam a baleful stare. “You want me to entertain you. Very well.” He released Sam’s hand.

Sam was loathe to let him go. He had become so accustomed to the warmth of Cas’ fingers that his own hand now felt strangely empty and cold.

Castiel skated ahead a bit and then turned back to Sam. “I will do this thing that you have asked, on one condition.”

“Anything,” Sam called, and he meant it.

Castiel pointed. “Don’t try any of it. I mean it. Your parents will kill me if this night ends with you in the emergency room.”

“Got it,” Sam agreed. 

Castiel sighed and turned back around.

Sam watched as Cas skated across the ice, picking up speed. He had already noticed a marked difference between the way that he moved earlier and the way that he was moving now. This was competition mode. Sam was pretty sure that the people of Lawrence had never seen anything like what they were about to see.

Sure enough, the first jump was enough to turn everyone’s head. The second jump was accompanied by audible gasps. By the third jump, most of the skaters had moved close to the walls, not wanting to miss the impromptu performance.

Sam stared rapt as Castiel essentially took ownership of the entire rink. He didn’t know if this was a routine that he used to do, or if he were making it up as he went, but one thing was for sure. His coach’s admiration of his talent had not been exaggerated. As Sam watched him move into a spin of dizzying speed, he realized with perfect clarity that meeting Cas was either going to be the best or worst thing that had ever happened to him.

Castiel finished his demonstration to enthusiastic applause from all of the patrons. He gave a breathy laugh and bowed, before skating back over to where Sam was leaning against the wall. “Satisfied?”

“You’re amazing,” Sam said, slightly breathless even though he himself hadn’t moved in several minutes.

Castiel smiled and shook his head. “No, what I am is sloppy. Did you see how messy that triple axel was? I’m actually embarrassed by how many technical fouls I made. I guess it’s true what they say.” He shrugged. “If you don’t use it, you lose it.”

“I thought it was fantastic,” Sam assured him. He glanced around. “Along with everyone else, I might add.”

Castiel looked back at Sam. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. “Really. You’re very kind.” He offered his hand. “Shall we continue?”

As much as Sam wanted to take Castiel’s hand, he had to admit that the amount of people now paying attention to them was giving him some pause.

Castiel immediately sensed Sam’s hesitation and instead gave him a low five, playing it off. “I understand. No problem.” He skated forward and motioned for Sam to follow. “Come on. Let’s take another lap. Remember, no tricks.”

Sam nodded and pushed off the wall slowly. He followed Castiel along the ice, trying to keep his balance. It was much harder now that he was acutely aware of what he was doing. Before when Cas was holding his hand and distracting him, he didn’t have to try as hard, he just skated. Now he was finding it impossible to focus on anything other than the effort it was taking to remain upright while propelling himself forward. He realized that his ankles were beginning to feel somewhat sore.

After what seemed like forever, Sam was relieved to see they were approaching the entrance point. “I think I’m gonna take a break,” he called to Cas.

Castiel stopped and turned around. “I’ll go with you.”

Sam waved him away, moving towards the opening. “No, it’s fine, I’m good…”

“Watch your step,” warned a random skater.

As Sam tripped spectacularly over the border of the rink and landed half on and half off the ice, several thoughts rushed through his mind at once. _I hope Cas didn’t see that. Of course he saw that. How could he not have seen that. I hope no one was recording that on their phones._ As a group of skaters congregated around him and began to help him to his feet, he realized with growing alarm that his right ankle felt as though it were filling up inside with fire. “Oh no,” he groaned.

Castiel was at his side in an instant, helping Sam to steady himself. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Sam breathed, trying not to put any weight on his ankle.

Castiel looked him over. “No, you’re not,” he decided. “Come on.” He and a few other skaters helped Sam limp over to the nearest bench. 

Sam grimaced as Cas thanked the skaters for their help. _What the hell are we gonna do now?_

Castiel turned back to Sam. “On a scale of one to ten, describe the pain in your ankle.”

Sam blinked. He furrowed his brows trying to figure out how the heck he was supposed to assign a value to pain. “I don’t know,” he said, shrugging. “Five? Maybe a six?”

Castiel gave Sam a long assessing glance. Then he pulled out his cellphone. “What’s your mother’s number?”

Sam shot forward on the bench. “No! You cannot call Mom! She and Dad never go out! I mean never.” He shook his head vigorously. “No way. I won’t let you do it.”

Castiel sighed and gave Sam a patient look. “Sam, I’m concerned that your ankle might be sprained.”

“Not broken?” Sam asked, relieved.

“No,” Castiel replied, shaking his head. “Believe me, if it were broken, when I asked what your pain level was, you would’ve said somewhere around seventy. You would’ve yelled it.” He sighed again. “Either way, you likely need medical attention, and someone will have to drive us.”

“You cannot call Mom and Dad,” Sam repeated. “I’m not giving you the number.”

Castiel’s lips twitched. “Fine,” he said, with the barest hint of irritation. “Then I’ll just call Dean.” He glanced down at his screen and began to dial.

Sam leaned forward again and snatched the phone from Castiel’s grip. He quickly shoved it into his coat pocket and crossed his arms, effectively blocking Cas from retrieving it.

“Dammit Sam!” Castiel exclaimed, sounding uncannily similar to Sam’s older brother. “I’m trying to help you!”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, and I appreciate that, but I can’t let you call Dean either. He’d never let me hear the end of it, and then I’d be on edge every time he came home until he got his revenge on me for pulling him away from Lisa.” He cringed. “And trust me when I say, you don’t want to be in a prank war with the guy. It never ends.”

“So what do you want me to do?” Castiel asked, raising his eyebrow. He sat down beside Sam. “My car is back in California, and last time I checked, you didn’t have one.”

Sam sighed and glanced upward. _Oh man..._ Shaking his head, he pulled out his own phone and began to dial Charlie’s number.

Charlie answered on the first ring. “Dude,” she said. “Why the heck are you calling me? Isn't this your future husband's last night in town? Shouldn't you guys be making memories or something?”

Sam cringed, glad that he’d at least had the foresight not to put her on speaker. He glanced briefly at Cas. _Hopefully he didn’t hear anything._ “Yeah, about that…” He cleared his throat. “I’m at the ice rink downtown. I fell, and I might’ve sprained my ankle—”

“Seriously?! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Sam assured her, glancing at Cas who shot him a look that said he was most certainly not fine. “The thing is, I don’t have a ride to get home. Is there any way you can come pick us up?”

“Sure I can pick… Wait a minute. You said us... Are you two together?”

Sam sighed. _Well, technically we are._ “Yes,” he replied, somewhat testily. “Can you pick us up and drop us back at my house?”

“Of course! Just give me like half an hour and I’ll be right there!”

“Thanks,” Sam said, inwardly grimacing. If Cas hadn’t been sitting beside him, he would’ve given Charlie strict orders not to do anything even remotely embarrassing, but he would just have to hope that she had already gotten that memo based on his tone of voice.

“No problem. See you in a bit.”

Sam hung up his phone and put it away. “She’ll be here in thirty minutes,” he informed Cas.

Castiel nodded. “Alright. “ He gave Sam a sideways glance. “I don’t suppose there’s any way I could convince you to see a doctor instead?”

Sam shook his head. “Nope. Not a chance. I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

“Very well,” Castiel sighed. “In that case, may I have my phone back?”

“As long as you promise not to call Dean,” Sam said, handing it over.

“I won’t,” Castiel agreed. He grudgingly chuckled and put his phone away. “You’d think that we would’ve learned our lessons about taking each other’s phones by now. I should’ve done what you did and tackled you, but given your size advantage, I doubt that it would’ve been particularly effective.”

Sam let out a single laugh. “Right. Again, sorry about that.”

“Like I said, it was fine,” Castiel replied. “In fact…” He trailed off, glancing back at the ice rink. “Nevermind. It isn’t important.” He returned his attention to Sam, his gaze concerned. “Are you still in much pain?”

Sam shook his head. “Not really. The cold is making it pretty numb, but I could actually go for that cup of hot chocolate right about now.”

“Of course,” Castiel said, standing up. He instinctively reached for his pocket before remembering his missing wallet. “Damn.”

“Nah, I got it,” Sam reminded him, digging out his own wallet. He opened it and handed the remaining cash to Castiel. “Come to think of it, this is probably your money anyway. The change from the grocery store, if that makes you feel better.”

“It would make me feel better if you hadn’t gotten injured to begin with,” Castiel said wryly. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Ha,” Sam retorted. “I wouldn’t get far.” He watched as Cas walked over to the concession stand, mentally kicking himself. Out of all the ways that he had envisioned failure, he certainly had not anticipated bodily harm. _He probably thinks I’m a complete idiot._ He glanced down at his ankle, which had quieted down to a dull throb. _There’s no way in hell he’s ever gonna give me the time of day now._ He heard laughter and looked up, his eyebrows raised.

Castiel was at the front of the concession line, chatting amicably with the cashier. As Sam watched, the girl handed Cas two white paper cups. The way that she looked at him reminded Sam of their waiter from the diner. _Not that I can blame her._ Cas glanced his way, and Sam quickly averted his eyes, turning to watch the remaining skaters. He didn’t look back again until Cas sat down next to him on the bench and placed a small paper box in his lap.

Sam blinked. “Are those pretzel bites?” 

Castiel nodded and handed Sam a cup of cocoa. 

“How did you pay for them?” Sam asked, brows furrowed. “I only had enough left for one cup.”

Castiel chuckled. “I’m sorry to say that I may have picked up one or two bad habits from your brother.” He took a sip from his own cup.

Sam laughed, incredulous. “You flirted with the concession girl?”

“Flirt is perhaps too strong a word,” Castiel demurred. “But yes, I can be charming when the situation calls for it.” He gave Sam a tiny smile. “And I daresay that it did. I probably could’ve gotten more, but I didn’t want to get her in trouble.” He leaned his head to the side. “I suppose I also could’ve told them that unless they wanted you to come back here and sue them out of existence in several years, the least they could do was hand over a few snacks.”

Sam laughed again. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t go that route. Thanks.”

Castiel smiled. “If pretending to be straight for five minutes can get a warm drink and something to eat for a friend, who am I to refuse?”

Sam shrugged. “All pretending to be straight has ever gotten me is a lot of unnecessary advice about girls and unwarranted concern about my lack of interest in prom dates…” He trailed off as he realized what he’d just said. _Welp. There it is. I guess I just needed to stop over-thinking it._ He glanced at Cas who was looking at him with an odd mixture of relief and… _Is that regret?_ He cleared his throat and continued, trying to lighten the mood again. “But then I’ve only been doing it for four years, so maybe I just need more practice.”

Castiel dropped his gaze and looked out towards the ice rink. “I see,” he said, quietly.

“Did you know?” Sam asked.

Castiel shook his head. “No.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?” _I guess I was more subtle than I gave myself credit for._

Castiel sighed and glanced upward. “I learned a long time ago never to presume someone’s sexuality.”

Sam blinked a bit before understanding. “Ah. Gotcha. Fell in love with a straight guy?”

Castiel gave a single dry laugh. “What can I say? I was young and naive.” He sighed again and took a sip of his cocoa. “At any rate, I learned my lesson.”

“Oh,” Sam said, sensing that Cas didn't want to discuss it further. They sat there without speaking, absently munching on pretzel bites, watching the other skaters go around on the rink and listening to the sounds of laughter in the background. “You really didn’t know?” Sam asked again after a few minutes had passed.

Castiel gave Sam a sideways glance. “No, I didn’t. There were moments when I thought maybe…”

“When?” Sam asked.

Castiel looked down at his cup for a long while before answering. “In the diner, when you put your arm around me. At first I thought maybe you were trying to do me a favor, saving me the effort of rebuffing our server.” He sighed. “But it felt like it was more than that. It was quite confusing, especially since I had just witnessed your attempt to pick up a very pretty girl by the North Pole display.”

Sam blanched. _Dammit Charlie._ “Yeah… That wasn’t what it looked like.” _As you’ll soon find out._

Castiel shrugged. “It wasn’t really any of my business, but it gave me pause. I thought that I had misread...” He took a breath. “But I could never be quite certain one way or the other, and I prefer to err on the side of caution.” He briefly glanced at Sam before returning his gaze to the ice. “As I’ve said, I’ve been wrong before.”

“Well, you weren’t wrong this time,” Sam said quietly.

Castiel sighed and glanced upward again. “You’re my roommate’s younger brother," he said quietly, as he turned to gaze fully at Sam. "I couldn’t be more wrong if I tried.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up.

“Oh good! There you are!”

Sam whipped around, his eyes landing on Charlie. _Could your timing possibly have been worse?!_

“I would’ve been here sooner,” Charlie apologized, misreading Sam's pained expression, “but traffic is nuts.”

“I know,” Sam replied, inwardly grumbling. _Don’t be an ass. It’s not her fault._ He managed a grateful smile. “Thanks for coming.”

“Anytime,” Charlie said, patting Sam on the shoulder. She turned her attention on Castiel. “Hi there.”

“Hello,” Castiel said, rising to his feet. “So you’re the young lady I’ve been hearing so much about. It’s nice to meet you, although it’s a shame it had to be under these circumstances.”

“Yeah, I know,” Charlie agreed. “You’re Dean’s roommate, right? Sam mentioned that his family was having company this week.”

Sam blinked. He had to admit, he was impressed by how cool Charlie was playing it, even though he knew deep down she was dying to geek out over all of this. _I didn’t know she had it in her._

“I hope you don’t mind my saying so,” Castiel began coyly, “but you look rather familiar. I feel as though we might have already met, briefly.”

“Oh, I get that a lot,” Charlie replied, not missing a beat. “People tell me I have a very familiar face.” She patted Sam on the shoulder again. “How are you holding up, big guy?”

Sam shrugged. “Not too bad. Just ready to go.”

“I’ll bet,” Charlie replied, looking him over. Her eyes widened. “Am I hallucinating, or is your coat actually zipped up for once?”

“That was my doing,” Castiel informed her, with a tinge of pride in his voice.

“Nice!” Charlie exclaimed, turning back to Cas with a grin. “You know, I tell him to zip it all the time, but he never listens.” She shook her head. “See, that’s the problem with teens these days. Sometimes we need a little guidance from someone slightly above our peer group—”

“Charlie,” Sam said warningly.

“Shall we go then?” Charlie asked.

 

Much to Sam’s relief, the drive back to his house wasn’t nearly as awkward as he had feared. By the time Charlie and Castiel finished returning the rental skates and helping Sam into the backseat, they were conversing like old friends. Sam watched anxiously between the arm rests, trying to head off any potentially embarrassing topics, but Cas turned and told him to lie back down and just be glad he wasn’t making him go to the emergency room. 

Getting up the stairs proved to be more of a challenge. It took about ten minutes of arguing for Sam to even persuade Castiel to let him go upstairs. Cas was insistent that Sam should take the guest bedroom since it was on the ground level. Blushing furiously, Sam had struggled to convince Cas that there was no way he was trading rooms with him without flat out telling him that he would be too worked up over the thought of being in Cas’ former bed to actually rest. Instead he politely pointed out that the guest bed was only a queen mattress, and he simply had to have a king mattress.

As carefully as though walking on a bed of nails, they ascended the stairs, Castiel and Charlie squeezing in on either side of Sam for support. He mentally prayed that he had not left anything potentially embarrassing in full view. Thankfully his room was presentable, only the occasional scattered item of clothing lying around. He allowed Cas and Charlie to help him into his bed and then gave Charlie a series of pointed stares as the first two or three failed to register while she chatted amicably with Cas.

Eventually Charlie got the message and excused herself in a hurry, extending her well wishes for a speedy recovery and insisting that Sam call her tomorrow.

Castiel sighed as he watched Charlie leave. “I still think you should’ve let her drive you to urgent care,” he said to Sam, handing him a glass of water and two pain pills.

Sam quickly swallowed the pills and water, and passed the empty glass back to Castiel. “They’re just going to wrap it and charge me a hundred bucks. I’ll ask Mom to take me to the doctor on Monday.” 

“We still need to immobilize it in the meantime,” Castiel explained, setting the glass on the nightstand. “Does your family have any bandages or ice packs?”

Sam snickered, picturing the massive basket of first aid supplies his mother always kept on hand. Having two student athlete sons, a mechanic husband, and her own active hobbies had taught her to always be prepared. “Check the hall closet. That should answer your question.”

“Alright,” Castiel said. “I’ll be right back.” He ducked out of the room.

Sam reclined back onto his bed and waited.

“Why on earth does your family have so many ace bandages and ice packs?” Castiel called from down the hall.

Sam propped himself up on his elbows. “Sports mostly. Between my basketball and Dean’s baseball, we take a fair amount of damage.” He glanced disinterestedly at his ankle. “I’ll have done much worse than this by the time the season is over.”

“Don’t say that,” Castiel admonished, coming back into the room. He sat down on the bed and carefully lifted Sam’s ankle into his lap. “Just because you’re young doesn’t mean you should be careless.” He glanced at Sam. “Do you plan to play basketball in college?”

Sam shook his head. “There’s no point unless you’re getting a sports scholarship or you want to go pro. My scholarship offer is based on academics, so I’m not going into the athletics program. It’d just be a waste of time.”

“If you don’t like it that much, then why do it?” Castiel asked, gently palpating the area around Sam’s ankle. “Why bother at all?”

“I want to fit in,” Sam replied honestly. “Being on a team makes life easier in high school. Especially when you’re different.”

Castiel sighed. “I suppose you have a point.” He gently began to wrap Sam’s ankle with the ace bandage. “You should try to stay off of your foot for the next few days, and make an appointment with your family doctor as soon as you can, just to be safe.” He secured the bandage with the metal clips and handed the packs to Sam. “Use the cold pack for 20 minutes, take it off for 20 minutes, and then repeat.” He gestured towards the pillows. “You should also keep it propped up while you’re lying down.”

Sam reached for the pillows. As he went to hand them to Cas, he swore he was just going to call it a night and chalk it up as a loss. He had tried, he had failed, and if he quit while he was ahead, at least he had his pride. Then their fingers touched, and as something like an electric spark raced through him, Sam heard all the advice he’d been given this week rushing through his mind at once. _All summer long, you have been stalking your brother’s snap stories and listing all the things that you would love to do to his roommate, and now you’ve got your chance. Try a little confidence. You miss one hundred percent of the shots you don’t take._ He dropped the pillows and wrapped his hand around Castiel’s wrist. In one fluid motion, he pulled Castiel into his lap.

Blue eyes went wide. “What are you—”

“Spend the night with me,” Sam said in a rush.

“What?!” Castiel asked, sure that he’d heard wrong.

“Spend the night with me,” Sam repeated. He let go of Cas’ wrist and placed his other hand on the small of his back. “I know you’re leaving tomorrow, but it would mean a lot to me if you spent the night.”

“I am already spending the night,” Castiel quipped. “I’m staying in the guest room of your house, remember?”

“You can stay in my bed instead,” Sam offered, tracing his hand up Cas’ back. “I really like you, and I’m pretty sure that you feel the same way.”

“How I feel is irrelevant,” Castiel sighed, averting his eyes. “You are off limits, and that’s all there is to it.”

“If that’s true,” Sam said. “Then why did you lie down on the couch with me yesterday? You have your own bed, if you wanted to take a nap, but you stayed with me.” He moved his other hand up Cas’ back, bringing him in closer. “You said it yourself, touch conveys meaning.”

“It was human weakness,” Castiel admitted, closing his eyes as Sam drew him in. “I wanted to know what you felt like.”

“So feel,” Sam said, gently guiding one of Cas’ hands up his thigh.

“That’s not what I meant— oh wow…” 

“Well?” Sam asked, stroking a hand through Cas’ hair. 

Castiel shuddered. “I can’t.”

“Why?”

Castiel leaned his head away from Sam’s caress. “You’re too young for me.”

“I’m eighteen,” Sam reminded him. “You’re twenty. That’s only a two year difference.”

“Maybe so,” Castiel conceded, trying to ignore the warm hardness beneath his palm. “But you’re still in high school.” He lifted his hand from Sam’s lap and placed it primly on his own thigh. “It’s out of the question.”

“I’m not a virgin, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Sam said. “I’m actually really good at it.”

Castiel scoffed, unconvinced. “Have you ever even been with a man before?”

“Obviously,” Sam replied.

“Who?” Castiel asked skeptically.

“My ex, Brady,” Sam answered. “We were together on the low for two years. We used to do it all the time at his place.” He shrugged. “His parents were never home.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow, still not buying it. “Uh huh. And where is Brady now?”

“His family moved away last year,” Sam explained. “Back to Boston. We face timed a bit over the summer, but jacking off on cam wasn’t really doing it for me, so we decided to split up.”

Castiel closed his eyes for a moment.

Sam waited, hoping that he still had a shot.

“No,” Castiel said, opening his eyes. “Absolutely not.”

“Why?” Sam said, trying not to beg, but feeling beyond desperate.

“You’re too big,” Castiel sighed. “I haven’t been with anyone in a while, and that,” he gestured at Sam’s lap, “is not something you just tackle unprepared. You have to build up to that.” He shook his head. “Poor Brady, if he exists, is probably lying dead somewhere from untreated internal hemorrhaging.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “We knew what we were doing. We researched it beforehand.” He leaned forward, meeting Castiel’s eyes. “I took it really slow, and I used lots of lube.” He dropped his voice lower. “I ate him out before each time so that he would be nice and relaxed. I’m very good at that too.”

Castiel shuddered. “What about your ankle?” he asked, tearing his gaze away from Sam’s. “How do you expect to make it work if you can hardly stand?”

“You can be on top,” Sam replied easily. “Or we can lie on our sides. There are ways around it.”

Castiel gave Sam a scrutinizing stare. “You seem to have put a lot of thought into this. Almost as if this whole thing was just a ploy to get me alone in your room tonight so that you could beg me for sex. Is that what you’ve been up to, this entire time?”

Sam sighed and released Cas from his arms. “Here’s the truth,” he began, leaning back on his elbows. “Ever since the first time I saw you, I’ve been into you.” He swallowed. “Like really into you. More than you know.”

Castiel furrowed his brows. “Since Monday?”

Sam sighed again. “No. Since I saw you on Dean’s snapchat last spring. You were sitting on the balcony reading a book. I think it was Anna Karenina.” He smiled shyly. “You were wearing a white button down shirt, faded blue jeans, and dark sunglasses. Dean walked out onto the balcony and he told you to smile for the camera.” Sam took a breath. “You lifted your sunglasses, and you had the most incredible blue eyes I’d ever seen. And your smile… It was like Heaven itself,” he breathed.

Castiel continued to look at Sam, his face unreadable.

“Ever since that moment,” Sam continued. “You have been on my mind constantly. I was so jealous of Dean getting to have you around, when he can’t even begin to appreciate it. But I never thought that I would ever actually get to meet you in person, but now that I have, it’s ten times worse because…” He took a breath. “You’re real and you’re perfect. More than I ever could’ve imagined.”

Castiel looked away, his heart pounding. “This is all my fault,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have shown my interest in you. If I had just kept everything to myself, then—”

“Then I would still want you,” Sam cut in. “And I think you know that. Because we’re both in my bed right now, and I am flat out begging you to have sex with me, and you haven’t left yet.” He raised his eyebrow. “That has to count for something, right? After all, you’re the one who told me to try a little more confidence.”

Castiel shot Sam a dry look. “Using my own advice against me is borderline entrapment.”

“Well, I am planning to become a lawyer,” Sam replied. “I’ll need all the practice I can get.”

“Then you’ll have to find someone else to practice on,” Castiel quipped, moving to slide off the bed. Before he had a chance to do anything but let out a shocked sound, Sam rolled, bringing him over and pinning him beneath his own body.

Castiel swallowed hard, trying not to allow himself to be affected. The feel of Sam alone was bad enough, but when combined with the smell of him, and the heat of him, it was almost unbearable. He could feel his body responding enthusiastically. “Sam,” he warned, “these jeans are Balmain.”

Sam leaned down so that their faces were barely inches apart. “Is that supposed to mean something?” 

Castiel swallowed again and fisted his hands into the blanket to quell the urge to throw them around Sam’s shoulders. “It means they cost seven hundred dollars. I would hate to ruin them.”

“So take them off,” Sam suggested, starting a slow grind against Cas.

Castiel sucked in a breath and grabbed onto Sam’s shoulders before snatching his hands back as if he’d been burned. “Oh fuck…”

“This really turns you on, doesn’t it?” Sam asked, feeling the evidence poking against him as he moved. “The fact that I’m so much bigger and stronger than you?”

“You know it does,” Castiel breathed, closing his eyes. “And it isn’t fair.”

Sam stopped moving. “Do you like me?”

“Yes,” Castiel admitted, with a sigh. “I do. Very much so.”

“Do you want to have sex with me?” Sam asked quietly, holding perfectly still.

“I don’t think that I have ever wanted anything more in my entire life,” Castiel sighed, trying desperately not to grind up against Sam.

“Then why won’t you?” Sam asked, giving a painfully slow roll of the hips. He watched as Cas shuddered all over, his eyelids fluttering and his lips parted, his fingers digging into the blanket. 

“Because,” Castiel ground out, finally turning his eyes towards Sam. “You are my roommate’s kid brother.”

Sam gave Cas a look that could melt steel. “Give me a chance to prove you wrong.”

Castiel involuntarily bit his lip at the intensity of Sam’s stare.

Sam leaned down and brushed his lips along the side of Castiel’s neck. He traced feather light kisses against the pale skin, even as Cas trembled beneath him. “Please,” he whispered.

“Sam, we can’t,” Castiel sighed, his skin flushed. “Dean would kill us both.”

Sam dragged the tips of his fingers down the sides of Cas’ stomach, stopping just to trace along his hipbones. “Please…”

“Oh God,” Castiel groaned, arching into Sam’s touch.

“You are everything, Castiel,” Sam breathed against the shell of Cas’ ear. “And if I didn’t at least try, I would be miserable for the rest of my life.” He gently traced his thumbnail just below the waistband of Cas’ jeans. When Cas grabbed onto his wrist, he raised his other hand to his chin and held him in place as he kissed him. Sam could feel Cas’ fingers loosening their grip as their tongues twined together, Cas kissing him back desperately. Sam pulled away with a growl and leaned his forehead against Cas, staring beyond the depths of his eyes into his very soul. “Please.”

After a few moments of quiet breathing, Castiel nodded, his hands rising up to Sam’s shoulders.

Sam blinked. “Really?”

Castiel nodded again, pulling Sam back down for another kiss.

Sam obliged, bringing their mouths together, open and hungry. Still somewhat not believing it, he broke off the kiss, his blood racing at the whine of protest he earned from Cas. “Say it,” he breathed. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes,” Castiel said in a low voice, his eyes burning into Sam. 

That was all it took. Sam fell upon the object of his affection, the most breathtakingly exquisite human being he had ever known. He nuzzled his face into the expanse of skin between Cas’ neck and shoulder, inhaling at the clean smell of him. He let out an embarrassingly needy sound as he felt Cas’ fingers entwine themselves into his hair, his thighs rising of their own accord to hold Sam in.

Castiel closed his eyes as he felt hands stroking over his skin as lips left their mark on his neck. He didn’t even mind when he felt his shirt rip in the haste to gain access to his collarbone. “Sam, wait a minute,” he sighed, loathe to stop for even a moment.

Sam lifted his mouth from Cas’ skin. “I am so sorry… I’ll buy you another one.”

“No, no, not that,” Castiel breathed, opening his eyes. He pointed. “The door.”

Sam was mortified to realize that his bedroom door had been wide open the entire time. He didn’t even want to think about what would’ve happened if any member of his family had come home and seen the two of them going at it. He moved off of Cas and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

Castiel placed his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Don’t. Your ankle, remember?” He gave Sam a wry look. “I’ll get it.” He climbed out of the bed and walked over to the door.

“You’re going to make a great doctor,” Sam teased. “Talk about bedside manner.”

“Oh shut the hell up,” Castiel replied, closing the door. He slid the lock into place and turned back to Sam. “Where do you keep your condoms?”

Sam swallowed hard. “Tall dresser, bottom drawer.” He watched as Castiel bent over and rummaged through the clothes until he found the box of Magnums and the Astroglide. 

“A man after my own heart,” Castiel remarked, standing up. He tossed the items towards the bed.

Sam didn’t bother to turn to see where they landed. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Castiel as he approached, casually pulling off what was left of his torn shirt. His dark hair was already mussed in the best way, and Sam couldn’t wait to get his hands into it again. He held his breath as Castiel hooked his thumbs into the waist of his jeans and drew them down, revealing all of himself with no hesitation.

Sam stared, his mind briefly paralyzed by a sudden surge of sheer want. “You shave,” he ground out.

“Wax,” Castiel corrected. He raised an eyebrow. “I live in LA.”

“Right,” Sam mumbled. He hurriedly pulled his own shirt up and over his head, before tossing it on the floor. Still not looking away from Castiel, he unzipped his jeans and pushed them down his legs, letting them slide onto the floor. He reached for the waistband of his boxers, but Castiel immediately stepped in between his open legs.

“Don’t,” he breathed, his eyes slightly darkened. “Let me.”

Sam nodded and placed his hands flat on the bed. He held Cas’ gaze as he reached down the front of his boxers and inwardly smirked at the way his pupils dilated the moment that he wrapped his hand around the shaft.

“Wow,” Castiel breathed.

“I know,” Sam replied, just barely managing to keep the smugness out of his voice. He watched as Cas tugged the boxers the rest of the way off and stood there admiring him. “Take a picture,” Sam teased.

Castiel blinked, coming out of his reverie. He wrapped his hand around the shaft again, tracing along the length.

Sam’s hips twitched as Cas pressed his thumb against the underside. 

“Can I ask you an incredibly terrible and stupid question?” Castiel asked. He looked up at Sam, the corner of his bottom lip in his teeth.

“Go for it,” Sam breathed, trying to keep still.

Castiel glanced down again. “If I were to ask you to… not use a condom when you’re inside of me,” he sighed. “It’s not my style to go without, and you shouldn’t either, but…” He bit his lip again. “I want to feel all of you.”

Sam groaned at the idea, and a fresh pulse of precum trailed down the length of his cock. 

“Yes, just like that,” Castiel breathed, his eyelids fluttering as his hand became slick. “I want to feel that, from the inside.” He shuddered. “And I’m completely clean. I would never have agreed to do anything with you if I weren’t.” He gazed up at Sam. “If you’d prefer to stick with the condoms, I’ll understand.”

Sam leaned forward and grabbed onto Castiel’s face with both hands. “If you told me that you wanted to bring Dean in here so that he could watch, I’d agree to it. Just as long as I get to have you, I’m good.”

Castiel closed his eyes as Sam kissed him forcefully, clearly growing somewhat impatient. When he felt one of Sam’s hands drop to his own cock he broke the kiss with a groan. “Forgive me, but I should’ve asked if you were clean too. I don’t mean to cause offense.” 

“Yes,” Sam replied. “I just got tested as part of my team physical.” He nipped at Cas’ ear. “I wouldn’t be with you if I weren’t.” He lowered his voice, his lips brushing against the side of Cas’ neck. “Last chance to get a picture for your collection.”

“I already took a picture of you,” Castiel admitted. “Not of your dick, but of your face. While you were sleeping yesterday.” He chuckled quietly. “I was considering making it my lock screen once I get back to LA.”

“You really do like me,” Sam breathed, pulling back to gaze at Cas in awe.

Castiel gave Sam a tiny smile. “I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t.”

Sam stared at Cas for a moment, and then hauled him back up onto the bed. He didn’t miss the sound of approval as he rolled him onto his back and settled above him, this time with no clothes to hinder their enjoyment of each other’s bodies.

Sam lay in between Castiel’s open thighs, his hands holding onto the back of his neck as he kissed him. He mapped out every curve of his lips, the heat of his mouth, the taste of his tongue. He rutted against him slowly, dragging their cocks together. Each tiny sound from Cas caused a fresh burst of precum, and within minutes their lower stomachs were a damp sticky mess.

Sam worked his way to Castiel’s neck, pulling his hair to get better access to his throat. He had noticed that the rougher he was, the more Cas seemed to respond, as though being manhandled in this way was a preference of his. The feel of Cas’ hand on his erection drew his attention and he let out a soft grunt as Cas gave him a few tugs, his own cock twitching against Sam’s.

Sam glanced down at where Castiel was stroking him, his touch almost reverent. “You really like my big dick, don’t you?”

“Very much so,” Castiel said, biting his lip.

Sam grinned. “You’re going to like it even more once I’m fucking you with it.” He leaned back, trailing his hands down the back of Cas’ thighs before slapping the bottom of his cheeks. “Roll over and get on your knees.”

Castiel gave Sam a look that was equal parts stunned and ravenous as he complied. He couldn’t help the involuntary shudder that coursed through him as he heard Sam’s gasp of admiration. When Sam leaned forward and began kissing down the middle of his spine, he dropped forward onto his shoulders, his muscles giving way.

“Keep that ass up,” Sam said, his lips brushing against the skin of Cas’ lower back even as he trembled beneath him. He settled back on his own knees as he grasped on to the smooth firmness of Cas’ cheeks. “I hope you’re comfortable.”

Castiel’s breath caught as he felt Sam lick a stripe in between his spread cheeks. In the past he had not been much of a fan of having his ass eaten, as it tended not to do anything for him. But there was something different about Sam’s approach. Cas couldn’t help but to respond to his enthusiastic ministrations. The strong tongue teasing the sensitive nerve endings of his entrance, and Sam’s viselike grip on his thighs was making it difficult for him to keep position. When one of Sam’s hands dipped between his legs to give his aching cock a tug, he bit back a whimper and almost dropped flat onto the mattress.

“Keep it up,” Sam admonished, giving Castiel a gentle smack on the ass. 

On shaking legs, Cas rose back into position, his breath coming in pants now. He could see that Sam had been telling the truth, he was very good at this. “Perhaps I should’ve gone to public school," he breathed, "if that’s what they’re teaching.”

Sam gave a low laugh and continued to eat Cas out in earnest, licking him open while he kept the barest friction on his cock. It didn’t take long before Cas was a wanton mess, steadily dripping precum all over Sam’s hand and arching his ass back for his tongue. Sam finally pulled back and planted a chaste kiss on his left cheek. “Toss me the lube, would you?”

With shaking hands, Castiel groped blindly along the bed, trying to recall where the bottle of Astroglide had landed. He gave an audible sigh of relief when he found it and passed it back to Sam, tiny tremors still racing through his body.

“Thanks,” Sam said. He flipped open the top and began to pour a generous amount onto his fingers and in between Cas’ spread cheeks. His first two fingers sank in easily and he began to stroke Cas’ dick again with his other hand as he worked him open.

Castiel leaned forward on his elbows as Sam spread him open, the anticipation of being filled with him making him slightly impatient. He pushed back against his fingers, trying to speed up the process only to be met with another light smack on the ass.

“Be patient,” Sam said. “Trust me, you’re going to want to let me take my time.”

“What we want, and what we need don’t always see eye to eye,” Castiel breathed. He let out the tiniest hiss as Sam added another finger, and then another, the burn beginning to make itself known.

Sam leaned forward again and pressed another kiss to the small of Castiel’s back. “Sorry. This part I need to work on more,” he confessed.

“No,” Castiel breathed, shaking his head. “You’re doing amazing. Keep going.” When he felt Sam’s fingers curl and brush against his prostate he let out a choked gasp. “That’s it... Right there.”

Sam obliged, dragging his fingers back and forth along the spot as he opened Cas up. His cock was steadily leaking now, twitching within his grasp. He began to apply more friction, sensing that Cas was on the edge.

“Don’t,” ground out Castiel. “Want you… need you… inside.”

Sam let go of Cas, placing one last kiss to the base of his spine. He leaned back on his knees and poured a large amount of lube onto his own cock, slicking it down.

Castiel shuddered at the wet sound, glancing back over his shoulder to watch. When Sam made eye contact with him he thought he might come then and there, completely untouched.

Rising back up on his knees, Sam pressed the head of his cock against Cas’ opening. With painstaking slowness he began to slide forward into that impossibly tight heat. The whimper that Cas gave as he sank into him sent a jolt of want straight to his core, but he kept his movement slow and smooth, refusing to rush.

Castiel bit down hard on his forearm as Sam filled him, pressing forward until he could feel the weight of his balls against the back of his thighs. 

Sam bottomed out and held still, giving Cas time to adjust to the stretch. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“I will be in a minute,” Castiel murmured against his forearm. “I just need a second to catch my breath.”

Careful to keep his hips still, Sam leaned forward and began to kiss along the back of Castiel’s neck. He stroked his hands along his body, caressing his skin which had already begun to dampen with sweat. When Cas shuddered and arched against him, Sam slid a hand underneath and began to jack his cock again, this time with no teasing, all deliberate and forceful strokes.

Castiel keened against his arm as his orgasm was wrung out of him, his thighs shaking as he began to drop flat onto the bed again. Before he could flatten out, Sam got his other arm around his chest and rolled onto his side, keeping Castiel tight against his body. He began to drag his hips with agonizing slowness, rocking into him.

Sam buried his face in Cas’ shoulder as he fucked him from behind, his hips rolling slowly. He held Cas’ upper thigh with his hand, allowing for deeper penetration on each stroke, the trembling of Cas’ thigh muscles urging him on.

Castiel reached back and traced his fingers through Sam’s hair, feeling his breath against his neck. “You are very good at this,” he sighed.

“Told you,” Sam whispered against his skin.

Minutes dragged on and Sam continued to fuck into Castiel with the same agonizing slowness. Cas had started to get hard again, and now the leisurely pace that Sam had set was becoming a frustrating tease. He began to rock back against him, clenching down in the hopes of spurring a more rapid momentum.

In response to feeling Cas clenching around him, Sam bit down onto Cas’ shoulder. He shuddered all over as he came, buried to the hilt inside of him. Once his tremors subsided, he kissed the spot that he had bitten, soothing over the teeth marks with his tongue.

Blissed out as he was, Castiel blinked with surprise when Sam didn’t make any immediate move to release him. He was even more startled when his hips continued to thrust, the pace slightly increased, but the movement just as steady as before. “Didn’t you just come?” he asked.

Sam nodded against his skin. “Uh huh.”

“Then how,” Castiel breathed. He shuddered as a particularly effective thrust caught him off guard. “Are you still…”

“Doesn’t usually go down after the first one,” Sam murmured. “Usually takes two or three times…”

“Now you tell me,” Castiel groaned, his frustration even more apparent.

“You want to get on top for a bit?” Sam offered. He pulled out before Cas had a chance to answer, and thumped him playfully across the ass with his cock.

Castiel tried to hide an embarrassingly needy yelp at the contact. He watched helplessly as Sam rolled onto his back, his heavy cock arching up towards his stomach. “Where have you been all my life?” he whispered, as he climbed onto Sam’s lap.

Sam held Cas’ gaze as he sank down onto him, lips parted, his eyelids fluttering for the briefest instant. “I could look at you like this all day,” Sam said, awed.

“We don’t have all day,” Castiel breathed, beginning to rock his hips back and forth. “So you’d better get your fill of me while you can.”

Sam dropped his hands to Castiel’s ass and began to guide his movement, picking up speed. “Not possible,” he murmured, his hips snapping up into Cas.

Castiel held onto Sam’s shoulders for leverage as he rode him, his movements more erratic than he would’ve liked. Every time one of Sam’s hands left his ass to slide teasingly along his cock before dropping back down, he lost his rhythm and whined in dissatisfaction.

“Tell me what you need,” Sam growled, sensing that Cas was losing himself.

“I think you know,” Castiel breathed, staring down at Sam.

Sam rolled Castiel over again and pinned him to the mattress. “Is this what you like?” he asked, taking over. He started a faster pace, his hips slamming into him. When Castiel nodded breathlessly, Sam held his wrists down, keeping him in place as he moved. The bed shook as he fucked him, the sound of their skin slapping together while Cas writhed beneath him turning him on even more.

Castiel tried to keep quiet, but Sam’s cock was dragging against his prostate on every thrust and it was almost too much sensation. He was immensely relieved when Sam covered his mouth with his own, swallowing his whimpers and groans.

Sam broke the kiss with a growl. “You look so good right now.” He squeezed Cas’ wrists. “All filled up with my cock.” He brushed his lips against Cas’ ear. “I bet you’ll look even better all filled up with my cum.”

Castiel gasped and closed his eyes as he came violently, his own cum spilling across his stomach, his thighs squeezing around Sam’s sides.

Sam immediately released Castiel’s wrists, and engulfed him within his arms as he picked up his pace, burying his face against the side of his neck. He could feel Cas holding onto him for dear life, the tiniest desperate sounds wringing out of him with every thrust. “Am I hurting you?” he ground out.

Castiel shook his head vehemently, his body feeling so loose and warm now that he would let Sam fuck him for days if he could. He dropped his own hands to Sam’s ass, squeezing the muscles as he stroked in and out of him. “Please,” he breathed, giving Sam’s own words from earlier back to him. “Please…” He swallowed. “Please,” he begged, his voice ragged and desperate, his neediness making him dizzy with want.

Sam moaned against Cas’ skin as he came forcefully, emptying himself inside of him. 

“Yes,” Castiel breathed, his entire body shaking with relief. He sighed and licked his lips as Sam flooded his insides with heat. “Just like that.”

Sam shuddered at the impossibly blissed out tone of Castiel’s voice. Sam had thought he was good at getting under Cas’ skin, but apparently Cas had learned how to push his buttons as well. He gently disengaged from his lover, settling down beside him, his desire finally sated.

Castiel stared up at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling as he finally began to catch his breath. “Never in my life… have I ever had anyone… fuck me… the way that you just did.”

“Thanks,” Sam said, resting his head on Castiel’s chest. He sighed contently as he listened to his breathing.

“How old did you say you were again?” Castiel asked weakly.

“Eighteen,” Sam replied.

“You sure about that?” Castiel questioned, his tone skeptical. “You’re not really thirty?”

Sam laughed. “You wanna see my driver’s license?” He lifted off of Cas and rolled over, reaching for his wallet where it lay on his nightstand. He fumbled the ID out and passed it to Cas, who took it and looked it over appraisingly.

“Nice picture,” Castiel said, handing it back. 

“If you say so,” Sam said, shrugging. “I hate it. It makes me look like a jerk,” he replied, putting his license back into his wallet. He tossed his wallet onto his nightstand and settled back into the bed.

Castiel laughed. “No it doesn’t. You look very handsome,” he assured him. “Besides, no one likes their own driver’s license picture. It’s impossible.”

“I’ll bet yours looks fantastic,” Sam retorted. “Where is it?”

Castiel sighed. “In my wallet, downstairs.” He leaned up on his elbows. “Which is where I should be heading, incidentally.”

“Don’t go yet,” Sam said. “You should at least stay in here until everyone else is home and asleep for the night.”

“Uh huh,” Castiel said, giving Sam a sideways glance. “You’re not campaigning for an encore performance, are you? Because I am exhausted.”

“I’m not,” Sam assured him. “I’m tired too. I just want to lay here for a while with you beside me.” He glanced down at his ruined bed sheets. “I guess we should’ve put down a towel though.”

Castiel gave a low laugh. “Would you think less of me if I told you that I actually like it? The awful, filthy, messiness of it all?”

Sam leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Castiel’s. “Nothing you could tell me would ever make me think less of you.”

Castiel stared back into Sam’s adoring hazel eyes, suddenly finding it hard to breathe again.

“Although,” Sam teased, raising an eyebrow. “Did you really pay seven hundred dollars for a pair of jeans?”

Castiel chuckled. “I never said I was perfect. That was your assertion.”

“True,” Sam mused. He stretched, yawning. “Dean did say you were spoiled.”

Castiel sat up. He looked down at Sam, his expression impossibly calm. “Dean said I was spoiled?”

 _Uh oh._ Tired as he was, Sam still recognized that look. He leaned up on his elbows and gave Cas a sheepish grin. “He maybe… possibly… might’ve said something along those lines on Thursday.”

“Uh huh,” Castiel said drily. He reached out and pinched one of Sam’s nipples. “The two of you have been talking about me, hmm?”

“Ow,” Sam laughed, taking hold of Cas’ wrist. “I asked him what it was like living with you. That’s all.”

“Uh huh,” Castiel said again, pinching the other nipple. “And what did he say?”

“The same thing I said,” Sam snickered, grabbing Cas’ other wrist. “That you’re perfect. A little bossy, definitely spoiled...” He yawned and pulled Cas in close, wrapping him in his arms. “But otherwise perfect.” 

Castiel sighed and relaxed into Sam’s embrace. “Well, if I wasn’t spoiled before, I certainly am now. You have no one but yourself to blame for it, Sam Winchester.”

Sam drew Castiel against him, the warmth of his body infinitely soothing. “Stay,” he said. 

Nodding, Castiel complied, giving himself over to Sam’s request, and eventually sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Just one chapter left!


	7. Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having exceeded his wildest expectations, Sam realizes that saying goodbye is the hardest task of all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, folks. The end of our tale. I'm not ashamed to admit that I teared up a little bit. I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> As always, any feedback (whether reviews or kudos) is greatly appreciated!

Unlike his guest, Sam didn’t grow up listening to classical music. His was a household devoted to classic rock, easy listening, and the occasional country-pop artist. When the vaguely familiar piano notes of Fur Elise drifted into his slumber, his first thought was that he must be dreaming about Cas again, because there was no other explanation. Not until he felt a warm body shift against his own did he remember that there was indeed a better explanation.

Blinking back sleep, he lifted his head, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dark. He could see the outline of Cas’ head resting on his chest, one of his thighs thrown possessively over Sam’s legs. Sam distantly remembered falling asleep with the lights on, so Cas must’ve gotten up sometime in the night to turn them off and then gotten back into bed. _He stayed._ The knowledge caused Sam to swallow hard, a feeling too big for him to express building behind his eyes. 

Before he could allow it to take hold, Sam heard the music again. It was slightly muffled, but close by. He realized the sound was coming from the pile of Cas’ clothing beside the bed. Very gently, he disengaged himself from Castiel, who had also begun to stir upon hearing the melody. Sam leaned over the side of the bed and reached out, digging through the fabric until he retrieved the culprit. “Cas, your phone,” he murmured, passing the offending device over to his bedmate.

Castiel barely glanced at the screen before sending the call to voicemail and closing his eyes.

Sam settled back down against the mattress, wondering who would be calling Cas in the middle of the night. _He does have a life outside of here, after all._ “Who was it?” he asked after a few minutes, even though he knew that it was none of his business.

“Your brother,” Castiel yawned, snuggling further down in the bed.

“...Wait, what?”

A series of knocks on his bedroom door punctured the silence.

Sam could physically feel his soul leaving his body as he turned and stared at his closed door. It somehow suddenly seemed impossibly far, a tunnel leading to a gateway, at the end of which was undoubtedly a fist. “Fuck my life,” he breathed.

Castiel sat up, his own tiredness fading in a hurry. 

“What the fuck are we gonna do?” Sam whispered.

Castiel sighed. “Well, I might not have made it to a ripe old age, but I can’t say that I didn’t have a good life.”

They both turned as the knocking repeated itself in the same calm, methodical pattern.

“He doesn’t know you’re here,” Sam whispered.

“How can you be certain?”

“Because he’s not trying to break the door down or wake up the whole house,” Sam reasoned. “He thinks I’m alone.”

“You’d better answer it then,” Castiel suggested, gently pushing Sam towards the edge of the bed. “Be careful of your ankle.”

Sam couldn’t help but feel a powerful surge of affection at that. Even now, with both of them a closed door away from being brutally murdered by Dean, Cas was still worried about him. “What about you?”

Castiel quietly slid out of the bed. In a few silent steps he was across the room and underneath the desk, the chair blocking him from view.

Sam’s eyebrows rose. _Good idea._ Trying to keep his face neutral, he climbed out of his bed and walked over to the door. He opened it just as Dean had poised his fist to knock again. “Hey,” he said, blinking against the light from the hallway.

“Hey—” Dean started, before quickly covering his eyes with a hand. “Jesus, since when do you sleep nude?!”

Sam closed the door a bit, his cheeks burning. _Well, look on the bright side, he got a pretty good look at everything, including the room, and Cas was nowhere in sight._ “I read an article on BuzzFeed earlier that said it was good for you.”

“Great,” Dean remarked drily, still averting his eyes. “Some things are better off not knowing.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, sorry to wake you.” 

Sam yawned. “It’s fine. What’s up?”

“Cas isn’t downstairs,” Dean explained. “I tried calling his phone, but he just sent me to voicemail. Did he come back with you?”

Sam realized he probably should’ve come up with a plausible story before opening the door. “Uh… no.”

“Oh yeah?” Dean crossed his arms, his eyes narrowed. “So then what the hell happened?”

Sam felt a spike of panic. _Oh shit, he knows!_ He briefly considered confessing the entire thing, his sexuality, his night with Cas, his relationship with Brady, the whole works. Better a swift demise than a prolonged torture. He forced himself to take a breath and remain calm. If there was one thing he knew about his brother, it’s that Dean wasn’t big on the cat and mouse games. He simply lacked the patience. _If he knew, he’d already be kicking my ass by now._ Sam decided to improvise. “He met someone.”

Dean scoffed. “Cas met someone? Cas, the pickiest, most judgmental guy I’ve ever known, met someone? Mister I didn’t come all the way out here to hook up with some random, actually met someone?” He raised an eyebrow. “Please tell me, who on Earth was finally deemed worthy of his royal highness?”

“The waiter from the diner,” Sam replied, after a brief pause.

Dean cackled, breaking into a smug grin. “I fucking knew it! I could tell Cas was crushing hard back there. That little liar.” He snickered. “He must’ve memorized the dude’s phone number before tossing it. Just wait until we get back to LA. Oh, I am gonna ride his ass so hard…” He froze, his skin reddening. “Not the right choice of words.”

“Uh yeah,” Sam agreed. “Definitely not.”

Dean cleared his throat. “So how did you get back?”

“He bought me an Uber,” Sam replied. 

Dean nodded. “Well alright. It was pretty shitty of him to ditch you to get laid, but at least he made sure you got home safe.” He gave his brother a thumbs up. “Thanks for not calling me.”

“No problem,” Sam said, feeling pretty relieved now that the threat of impending doom seemed to have passed.

“Although, you should’ve called your little ginger friend,” Dean suggested. “Then maybe all three of us could’ve gotten lucky tonight. Sucks to be you, but you know. Maybe one day.”

Sam rolled his eyes. He knew a surefire way to get rid of that smirk, but it definitely wasn’t worth it. “Right. Whatever you say.”

“I’ll let you get back to sleep,” Dean said, yawning. “I just hope Cas doesn’t stay out too late. We need to be at the airport by seven thirty, and he’s already snippy under the best conditions. What movie did you guys see anyway?”

 _Shit._ Sam scrambled his brain, trying to remember what had been playing at the theater that Dean had dropped them off at before they went ice skating. “Uh, Neon Demon.”

Dean cringed. “Oh man.” He shook his head. “I caught that on cable, saw the hot chicks and thought it was going to go in a totally different direction.” He shuddered. “Not only was I sorely disappointed, I was disgusted and deeply disturbed.”

“Yeah, can’t say that I was a fan,” Sam said honestly.

“I would seriously think something was wrong with you if you were,” Dean said, turning to head down the hall. "'Night.”

Sam waited until Dean made it to his own room before closing the door and locking it. He leaned back against the wood and sighed with relief.

Castiel came out from under the desk, chuckling to himself.

“I’m glad you thought it was funny,” Sam mumbled, his pulse slowing to normal. “I thought I was going to have a heart attack.” 

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t factor what to say to Dean into your grand seduction plan, I take it?”

“I didn’t have a plan,” Sam admitted. “I just kind of went for it. I didn’t think that I would ever see you again. It seemed like it was worth the risk.”

Castiel gave Sam a long look. “It was.” He bent over and began to gather his clothes.

“You should probably wait until Dean falls completely asleep,” Sam said quickly. He put his hands up. “And that’s not me angling for more sex, I swear. It’s just that he’s not a heavy sleeper like I am.”

“Alright,” Castiel agreed. He set his clothes on the edge of Sam’s desk. 

“Nice hiding place by the way,” Sam said, walking back over to the bed. He turned on the lamp on his nightstand, blinking as the light brightened the room. “Personally I would’ve gone for the closet.”

Castiel let out a low laugh. “I’ve never been in a closet in my entire life, and I don’t plan to get in one now.”

“Oh,” Sam said. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how different his life might’ve been if he’d been as open with his sexuality as Cas was. Then again, Kansas wasn’t New York. He was fairly certain that he’d made the right call, but he knew that a part of him would always wonder if he was missing out. “Was it easy for you being out while you were growing up?”

“Life is generally easier when you have money,” Castiel admitted. He walked around, his eyes roaming over the room. “For the price my parents paid for my private school tuition, I wasn’t about to be subjected to any amount of bullying.” He sighed, stopping in front of the desk again. “But my sexuality did not affect my life as much as it could’ve. My family didn’t care, because they simply do not have the capacity for caring.”

“Mine does,” Sam replied quietly, studying his hands. “I’m going to wait until I’m at Stanford to tell them. I think it’ll be easier with some distance between us.”

“You can do that,” Castiel assured him. “Tell them when you’re ready or don’t tell them at all. It’s your choice to make. No one else can make it for you.” He nodded towards the group photo tucked between the trophies on Sam’s desk. “Which one of them is Brady?”

Sam blinked. “How did you know he was on the team?”

Castiel gave Sam a sympathetic glance. “How else could the two of you have met in a town like this?”

Sam instinctively wanted to argue that it wasn’t that bad, but he knew that was him being defensive. Cas wasn’t saying anything that he hadn’t already said to himself a million times before. He moved over to the desk and peered at the photo. “That’s him,” he said. “Top left corner.”

Castiel studied the photograph for a few moments before turning away. “I admit, not at all what I expected.” He moved back over to the bed and sat down. “He’s quite conventionally attractive. All-American, waspish… I didn’t think that was your type.”

“It’s not,” Sam replied. “I mean…” He walked over to the bed and sat down beside Cas. “I really don’t have a type, like I said. But not in the same way that Dean doesn’t have a type,” he added quickly upon noticing a brief look of dismay pass across Cas’ face. “I’m like you, in that I care about what a person is like.”

“You didn’t know what I was like before a few days ago,” Castiel replied, gazing up at Sam. “And yet, here we are.”

“You let my brother live in your place for almost a year without killing him in his sleep,” Sam said. “That alone told me plenty.”

Castiel let out a low laugh. “Fair enough.” He leaned his head against Sam’s shoulder.

“By the way, I’m so sorry for telling him you hooked up with that waiter,” Sam sighed, putting an arm around Cas. “I just didn’t know what else to say.”

Castiel waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. If your brother thinks he’s going to give me any grief about that, he’ll quickly regret it.” He raised an eyebrow. “Besides, I’ve already had my ass ridden enough for one weekend.”

Sam ignored the twitch of interest from his dick at Cas’ words and hoped that Cas hadn’t noticed.

Castiel glanced down and gave a single low laugh before meeting Sam’s eyes. “Oh? You like that, do you?”

Sam quickly looked away, not missing the slight darkening of Cas’ eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” Castiel asked, his tone dropping. He gave Sam a slow look-over. “How’s your ankle?”

“Not great,” Sam admitted, even though his brain was telling him to shut the hell up and prepare for round two if that’s what Cas was getting at. “But it only hurts if I put weight on it, so I think you’re right about it just being sprained, and not broken.”

“Good to know,” Castiel said in the same low tone of voice, his eyes fixed on Sam’s.

Sam fidgeted, knowing even without looking down that his dick had gone from mildly interested to fully committed. “Did you wanna…” He cleared his throat and gestured towards the bed.

Castiel chuckled and shook his head. “Although nothing would please me more, I’m barely going to be able to walk a straight line as it is. Not to mention I have a nine hour flight. Even in first class, that’s going to be somewhat uncomfortable.”

“Ah,” Sam replied, letting out a breath. “Okay.” He managed to tear his gaze away from Cas and glanced at his alarm clock. “What time is your flight?”

“Nine thirty,” Castiel replied. He leaned his head to the side and gave Sam a sly grin. “Why? Are you trying to give me a hint?” he teased. “You want me to get out of your room and give you some privacy?”

Sam couldn’t help a bit of nervous laughter. “No, it’s not that. I just…” He didn’t know why he should be anxious around Cas anymore, given what they’d done just a few hours earlier. The memory filled him with a fresh burst of arousal and he dropped a hand to his lap, effectively hiding himself from view. “What time will you arrive back in LA? That’s a different time zone, right?”

Instead of answering, Castiel watched him intently for a few moments, before moving off the bed and dropping to his knees in front of Sam. With an almost feral sound, he brushed Sam’s hand away and leaned over, taking the head of his cock between his lips.

“Oh…” Sam breathed. For once he was at a complete loss, having not expected that particular response to his inquiry. He sucked in a gulp of air as he felt Cas slide down further, taking him in bit by bit.

Castiel took his time, dragging his tongue down Sam’s shaft as he took him into his mouth. He slowly pulled back up, his saliva dripping down onto the base of Sam’s cock. He slid back down again, hollowing his cheeks as he applied suction and working his hand around the base.

Sam could barely stay still as Cas went down on him. He had rarely received head in his past relationship due to his size, but Castiel seemed to be capable of handling him with no problems. _He's good at this. Extremely good._ Sam found himself clenching his fists into the sheets.

Castiel lifted his head, his eyes darkened. “You may pull my hair if you like, just don’t push my head down.”

Sam nodded quickly, his fingers finding their way into Cas’ dark hair. He moaned quietly, his thighs tensing. He was also learning that Cas was capable of being a tease. Every time Sam thought Cas was going to finish him off, he would pull back slightly or switch up the tempo, throwing off Sam’s rhythm. 

After the fifth ruined orgasm, Sam slapped his free hand onto the mattress and groaned in frustration.

Castiel gave a low laugh, lapping gently around the head of Sam’s cock. “What’s wrong? Had enough already?” He pressed his tongue against the slit, sucking up the beads of precum that were steadily continuing to form. He looked up at Sam as he did so, his expression darkly lascivious.

Sam caught the movement of Cas’ other hand and realized he was getting himself off to this, slowly fisting his own cock as he worked on Sam. _Oh fuck…_ Sam groaned again and covered his eyes with his arm. “Don’t you dare look at me like that, or I swear I will make you miss your flight.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that,” Castiel breathed. He took Sam’s cock fully into his mouth again and went to work. This time he didn’t let up when Sam’s breathing began to deepen and his balls drew up tight beneath his hand. As the head of his cock passed into the back of his throat, Cas swallowed, convulsing his throat muscles.

Sam could feel the tremors passing through Cas as he came, his fingers digging into Sam’s thighs hard enough to leave bruises as he continued to swallow around his dick. The image of Cas coming from having his cock down his throat was too much for Sam to handle. He came with a sharp intake of breath, his thighs flexing upward as Cas sucked him through his orgasm, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles had begun to turn white. As the spasms subsided, he looked down at Cas, shuddering at the self-satisfied expression on his face.

With one last lick, Castiel pulled his mouth away from Sam’s spent cock, letting it rest against his thigh. “You taste just like I thought you would,” he sighed contentedly.

“How’s that?” Sam asked, trying not to pant.

“Like Heaven,” Castiel said, his eyes intense.

“Prove it,” Sam challenged.

Without breaking his gaze, Castiel kissed his way up Sam’s chest, not stopping until their lips were touching. He twined his fingers into Sam’s hair and kissed him deeply, spreading the remaining traces of his cum across their tongues as Sam groaned into his mouth. “You see?” Castiel breathed, pulling away from the kiss. “Must be from all that toaster strudel,” he teased.

“I think I love you,” Sam murmured, before immediately wishing he could take it back. He silently prayed that Cas would take his ill-advised words in stride, rather than deciding he was a stage five clinger.

Castiel chuckled. “A good blow job tends to have that effect.” He patted Sam on the thigh. “That should keep you well satiated for a while. A couple hours at the very least.” He shook his head, as he walked over to the desk. “That’s one thing I don’t miss about being a teenager. All those hormones.” He picked up his clothes and began to get dressed.

Sam watched him, the realization that their time together had come to an end beginning to sink in. Mentally he tried to work it out, calculating the distance between their respective campuses. UCLA was only about six hours away from Stanford. Then again, he still had almost a year to go between now and then. Castiel was gorgeous, and the probability of him remaining single for that long was slim to none. Not to mention, perhaps this was just sex to him. Sam had been halfway in love with the guy before he’d even met him, but to Cas, Sam was just his roommate’s brother, someone he barely knew.

Castiel finished dressing and gave Sam a strange look. “What’s with that face? You look like someone just ran over your puppy.”

Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Nothing. It just sucks that you’re leaving. I really like you.”

“I really like you too,” Castiel replied. He gave Sam a tiny wistful smile. “You have left me with quite an impression. I imagine you’re going to break a lot of hearts at Stanford.”

 _Only my own._ Sam sighed again. “Will you say goodbye before you guys head out in the morning?”

“I thought you liked to sleep in,” Castiel teased. He reached over and entwined his fingers into Sam’s. He brought his hand to his lips and kissed it, gazing warmly into his hazel eyes. “Of course I will say goodbye.” He patted Sam’s hand and set it gently on the bed. “Now I’m going to try to get a few more hours of sleep. I suggest you do the same. Good night.”

When Cas had gone, Sam laid back down and stared up at the ceiling. The idea of sleeping right now seemed ridiculous. Tired as he was, his mind still raced with the knowledge of the inevitable countdown until Cas was gone and everything returned to normal. He would go back to school on Monday, and life would go on as it had before. Class, sports, home, rinse and repeat. He already missed Cas terribly and he hadn’t even left yet.

Sleep came eventually, fitful and uneasy, but somewhat comforting nonetheless. Sam was already half-awake and partially dressed when the knock finally came at his door. He fumbled his way out of bed and across the room, beginning to really feel the ache in his ankle. _I suppose I’d better tell Mom about that today._ He opened his door expecting to see Cas, and was instead met with Dean again. “Oh. You.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Were you expecting someone else? Thanks for putting some clothes on this time, by the way.” He glanced down at Sam’s ankle. “What the hell happened to you? Was that there last night?”

“Old basketball injury flare-up,” Sam answered. He leaned against the door frame. “And I wasn’t expecting anyone. I’m just surprised you actually came upstairs this time to say goodbye instead of yelling ‘So long Sammy’ at me from the front door.”

“Yeah well,” Dean started. “I actually feel kind of bad that I didn’t exactly spend a ton of time with you this week.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “It’s not that I don’t miss you too or whatever. It’s just, you know, long distance relationships are really hard and Lisa means a lot to me. I want to stay fresh in her mind.”

“I get it,” Sam replied. “It’s no big deal.”

Dean clapped his brother on the shoulder. “But hey, I’ll be back for winter break in a few weeks, as long as I survive finals. We can spend so much time hanging out, you’ll get sick of me. Cas will be in Italy for a study program, so you won’t have to worry about keeping him entertained.”

Sam nodded, determined not to let his disappointment show. “Okay. Sounds like a plan.”

Dean leaned forward and gave Sam a rough hug. “Good luck on your SATs, by the way.” He ruffled Sam’s hair. “Not that you need it, you big nerd. And stop growing so damn much. You’re starting to make me look short.”

“They make special shoes for that,” Sam quipped. He patted Dean on the back before they broke apart. “Try not to flunk out and waste any more of Dad’s money.”

“Oh fuck you,” Dean laughed, taking full advantage of the fact that their mom wasn’t within earshot.

Sam snickered and started to reply with something equally crude, before noticing that Cas had quietly appeared behind Dean. Sam felt a sense of déjà vu as he thought back to Monday when Cas had showed up on their doorstep and said hello to him in that voice that he knew he could never get tired of hearing.

Dean turned and glanced at his roommate. “Finally ready to go, huh?” He shook his head. “You would choose the night before we leave to go on a booty call.” He moved to the side so that Sam wouldn’t have to walk out into the hall on his ankle.

As Castiel moved closer, Sam was both distressed and grateful that Dean was standing right there. While it would’ve been nice to share one last private moment with Cas, the presence of his brother would keep him from saying anything stupid.

“Well I guess this is goodbye,” Sam said, forcing a cheerfully casual tone.

“So it would seem,” Castiel replied with calm politeness.

The silence hung in the air between them.

Sam stepped forward and engulfed Castiel in a hug which was enthusiastically returned. The only thing that stopped him from burying his face in Cas’ hair and inhaling was the knowledge that Dean was already looking at them with his eyebrows raised.

Castiel patted Sam warmly on the back, trying to convey a wealth of emotions with minimal gestures.

Sam quickly released Castiel from his arms, knowing that he was undoubtedly going to be grilled by Dean on the way to the airport. “You take care of yourself,” he said, careful to keep any hint of longing out of his voice.

“You too,” Castiel replied. He brushed past Dean and descended the staircase.

Dean blinked. “Right. Catch you on the flip side, Sammy.”

Sam gave a half-salute. “Adios. See you at Christmas.” He watched as his brother went down the stairs after Cas.

Dean eyed Castiel warily as they walked to the door. “So that’s how it is? You’ll hug Sam, but you won’t hug me? I’ve known you for almost a year, you’ve known him for what, a week?”

Castiel gave Dean a sideways glance. “Well, that’s because I’m actually going to miss Sam. I see you every day, so what is there to miss?”

Sam could hear his brother muttering about a lack of respect as he closed the door. He stood staring at the front door, the finality of the situation finally sinking in. _Why couldn’t he have gone to Stanford?_ He went back into his room and flopped onto his bed with a sigh. _I guess I shouldn’t complain. I was never expecting to get half as far as I did with him. That’s something to be glad about anyway._ His eyes slid over to his phone on the dresser as a notification caught his eye. He picked the phone up and realized that it was a snap chat message from an account that he didn’t recognize. He unlocked his screen, and his heart began to race when he realized he was looking at Cas’ avatar. _How the heck did he find me? He must’ve gone through Dean’s friend list._

Sam propped himself up on his pillows as he hit play, not sure of what to expect. His breath caught as soon he saw the first video clip. Castiel must’ve filmed it right after he’d taken a shower because he was standing in the downstairs bathroom. His dark hair was slicked back, and there were still beads of water clinging to his skin above the towel. The white background of the shower curtain made the blue of his eyes stand out more than ever, and Sam could practically feel the ache for him in his bones.

“First of all, tempting though it may be, I’m going to ask you please not to screenshot any of this for obvious reasons. I just wanted to tell you that this week was wonderful for me, for many reasons, not just because of last night. Which was also wonderful, of course.”

Sam huffed out a breath and pressed play on the second video.

“Although I don’t regret what happened between us, part of me does feel somewhat guilty. And not necessarily because of what Dean might think.” At this Castiel broke eye contact with the camera, a speculative look on his face.

Sam shook his head. “Please don’t feel that way,” he murmured even though he knew Cas couldn’t hear him right now. He played the third video.

“I wonder if I did you a disservice by giving in to my desire for you,” Castiel confessed. He glanced back at the camera. “I remember what it was like to be younger and to feel things so intensely, without hesitation… On the other hand, last night was one of the best nights of my life, and I thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome,” Sam sighed, pressing play.

“And so now I must ask of you a favor.” Castiel took a breath and then stared directly into the camera, his expression serious. “Do not let this one experience define you.” 

Sam blinked, trying to figure out what Cas was getting at. He clicked play.

“Sam, you are young, handsome, and so intelligent. I only hope that as time passes, and you get out into the world more, you won’t carry the idea of me with you,” Castiel explained.

Sam furrowed his brows.

“Because I’m not perfect. I am deeply flawed in so many ways, but it was nice to forget about that for a little while.” Castiel gave a tiny smile. “So thanks for that too.” 

“You’re welcome,” Sam murmured again.

“Then again, perhaps I’m simply reading too much into things. Once you’re at Stanford you’ll be surrounded by other handsome and intelligent young men. You’ll probably forget all about me by your second week.” 

Sam snorted. “Yeah right.” He pressed play on the last video, his chest tightening.

Castiel gave another tiny smile. “Just… try not to have too much fun, alright?” He kissed his first two fingers and pointed them at the camera. “Be safe.”

Sam swallowed hard and set his phone back down onto the nightstand. If he’d had any doubts about the finality of his situation, they had been silenced. _It’s really over._ He glanced around his empty room, already feeling the normalcy creeping in. _Life goes on._ In a few hours he'd limp downstairs for breakfast and tell his mom about his ankle. Tomorrow Charlie would drive him to school, and he’d tell her about his time with Castiel without going into too much detail. He knew there was no way to explain it, he barely even had a grasp of how much it had all meant, everything just seemed so surreal. He reclined back onto his bed and turned onto his side, his body settling back into the groove that he’d lain in with Cas beside him. 

As much as he hated the thought, Sam knew that he was going to have to wash his sheets soon if he didn’t want the fabric to stain. He also knew that once they were cleaned, the last traces of Castiel would be gone completely, as though he had never been there. No lingering scent of his skin or strands of his dark hair. Only a memory, one which Cas had assured him would fade in time.

But Sam knew better. Sam knew that from now on, he would look for Castiel in every lover he would ever meet. Maybe one or two of them would measure up, maybe none of them would. And if he never saw him again after today, it was a loss that he would likely feel for years to come. And yet, having known Cas, even for a little while, was something that Sam wouldn’t trade for anything in the world, and for that, he was truly thankful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everyone who took the time to read this story! This was quite a learning experience for me. I started off writing this on a whim, and I never expected to write so much, nor did I expect other people to actually enjoy it, so thank you! And an extra special thanks to anyone who ever left feedback! You have been so helpful and I try to learn from every comment, so it was all much appreciated!
> 
> Now I decided that if the interest is there, I'm considering writing a sequel. As I've said, I'm primarily a Destiel fan, but I can feel the scales kind of tipping the other way, especially after writing this. Let me know what you guys think!


End file.
